Something Sinister
by RL Seward
Summary: Sequel to Betrayal by Valerie Jones. Valerie approved the sequel. SS coauthored by Carol Galonis. Read Betrayal, first which is on this site. Sinister steals the children of Gambit and Rogue.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"...It's a small world after all  
It's a small world after all,  
It's a small, small world.   
It's a world of hope,  
It's a world of pears, it's a --"

"Pears, p'tite?" Remy Lebeau's deep voice rumbled slightly with amusement as he tucked his four-year-old daughter into bed. Renee's auburn hair tumbled carelessly from beneath black Minnie  
Mouse ears that hid all but a few wisps of the white locks she inherited from her mother. She had  
insisted on wearing the ears to bed, and after such a long day at the amusement park, neither Remy nor  
Rogue were inclined to argue.

"It's not pears, you dope," Cody said from the opposite bed with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.   
Rogue was trying in vain to get Cody tucked in as well, but the boy was still too wound up from the exciting day. Each time he appeared to settle in, he jumped up to look once more at his souvenirs or  
to look out the hotel window to see if he could glimpse any more fireworks over the Magic Kingdom. 

"Cody LeBeau, what have Ah told you about calling your sister names?" Rogue's soft tone didn't  
disguise the censure in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Mama."

"Apologize to your sister, honey, not ta me."

"I'm sorry, Rennie," he said contritely, then the grin that was so much like his father's appeared.   
"But it's not pears. It's fears, right Daddy?"

"I b'lieve you're right," Remy agreed as he handed Renee the stuffed rabbit she always took to bed.

"...It's a world of hope, it's a world of fears..." she continued singing softly. "That was my  
favorite ride today."

"T'ought so, p'tite, we rode it five times t'day alone."

"Guess what my fav'rite ride was," Cody called out.

"Well, sugah, since you had to have that sword and that pirate hat, not ta mention that patch for your  
eye, Ah'd guess it was the Pirates of the Caribbean."

Cody grinned then started singing in a voice loud enough to outmatch Renee's, "Yo ho ho ho, a  
pirate's life for me ..."

Rogue met Remy's amused gaze and shook her head. In an undertone, she said, "Ah'm gonna have those two songs in mah head all night."

Remy turned with a laugh to draw the drapes, but Renee stopped him. "Leave them open, please Daddy. I wanna see the castle." The brightly lit blue spires of Cinderella's Castle could be seen from  
their hotel room, and the children thought it was magical. Magical or not, Remy found it very  
convenient for watching the fireworks without having to battle the crowds.

"I'm gonna live there when I grow up," Renee said as she gazed dreamily out the window.

"You are, honey? Who are you going ta live there with?" Rogue sat down beside her daughter.

"You, me and Daddy."

"What about Cody?"

Renee giggled. "He's going to marry Rachel. They'll come to visit. So will Grandpa, Grandma  
and Remi."

"Am not!" Cody protested. "You're gonna marry Mickey Mouse!"

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna marry Prince Charming." Renee stuck her tongue out at Cody. "You're gonna  
marry Daisy Duck!"

"You're gonna marry Goofy!" Cody returned the expression.

"Dat's enough, y' two. Time t' go t' sleep." 

Remy and Rogue kissed each of their children goodnight and turned out the lights in the bedroom  
of their two-room hotel suite. As they left the room, Renee whispered, "I'm going to marry Uncle  
Scott."

Remy raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Y' t'ink your Aunt Jean might have somet'ing t' say 'bout  
dat, p'tite?"

"She won't mind."

Rogue hid her smile and with as much sincerity as she could muster assured her daughter, "Ahm sure  
she won't, honey."

"Ah thought they'd nevah go ta sleep," Rogue drawled as she stretched out on the sofa in the  
other room. "Ahm so tired and mah feet hurt. How long were we there today?"

"I t'ink we been at it since seven dis morning. Y' know dis whole Disney t'ing was Scott's idea and he  
managed t' get out o' it. Much rather be at de beach m'self." Remy moved his wife's feet to sit  
down at the end of the sofa. He replaced them in his lap and taking one in his hands began a  
soothing foot massage. "Goin' t' need a vacation after dis."

"Mmm, sugah, you just keep that up." Rogue closed her eyes and stretched languidly. "Ahm not sure  
Scott feels like he got out of anything. Ah feel so bad for Rachel. That child was inconsolable."

Scott and Jean had been planning to take Rachel to Disney World and had invited Remy, Rogue and the children to join them. They invited Charles, Lilandra and Remi along as well, but Charles had already made arrangements to spend two months on Chandilar. For four months, Rachel, Renee and Cody drove their parents to distraction with their excited anticipation for this vacation. Then four  
days before, Rachel developed a fever and was quickly diagnosed with chicken pox. Rogue and Remy planned to cancel the trip as well and wait until they could reschedule, but Scott and Jean insisted they should still go. It was Hank who finally convinced them. He was relieved that Cody and  
Renee showed no indication of contracting the disease themselves, and although it should have  
been past the infectious stage, with their mix of Shi'ar and human blood, he preferred not to take  
any chances that they might still.

"Poor Rachel," Remy murmured in sympathy.

"Poor Scott," Rogue countered, thinking of how Scott started breaking out in the tell-tale rash  
two days later. "Hank couldn't believe that he never had the chicken pox as a kid. That man must  
be miserable."

"Or chicken spots as Cody called dem." Remy grinned. "Act'lly, poor Jean . . . she be de one  
needin' a vacation after takin' care of dose two, neh?"

Rogue smiled but remained silent as Remy shifted his attention to her other foot. She started to  
drift off to sleep when she felt her husband lightly nip her toes. Her eyes flew open with a  
startled gasp as she tried to yank her foot back in vain. Remy's eyes were full of mischief as he held  
on and proceeded to tickle the sensitive sole.

"Ticklish, ma cherie?"

"Remy, stop!" Rogue shrieked while trying to kick her foot loose from his grip. 

He grabbed her flailing legs and pulled her into his lap. "Dat's what y' get for fallin' asleep on  
me, chere," he laughed. Moving his hand to the back of her neck, he idly traced the cleverly  
disguised inhibitor collar that allowed him to touch her at all. He then resumed his massage on  
the back of her neck.

"Hmm. Know what sounds good right now? A nice long, hot bubble bath in that oversized tub." She  
tossed him a sultry look and added, "Room enough for two, sugah."

"I like where dis is goin', cherie. Shall I go draw your bath, Madame LeBeau?"

"Ah've got a better idea. Why don't you run down to that overpriced gift shop in the lobby and buy  
us a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine for a nightcap while Ah draw the bath?"

"Y' jus' full of good ideas t'night," Remy said as he rose from the sofa carrying Rogue with him. He  
deposited her at the doorway with a lingering kiss as he turned to leave. "Be right back."

After he left, Rogue went into the bathroom to start the water running spending several moments  
making sure the temperature was just right. Piling her red hair with its signature white stripe  
on top of her head, she undressed and slipped on the terry cloth robe that hung from the back of the  
door. After spending all day in the park, she looked forward to a long soak in the tub. And  
whatever may come after, she thought with a smile. She found a small complimentary bottle of  
bubblebath on the vanity and bent to dump the entire contents under the running water. 

A sound in the outer room made her pause. "Back so soon, sugah?" she called out.

"Mama?"

Rogue sighed as she turned toward the door. "Renee, honey, what's the matter? Can't you --"

Her words died in her throat as a tall, imposing figure appeared suddenly in front of her blocking  
her way from the bathroom. "You! What d'ya think you're --"

A sharp pain pierced the base of her skull and her world went black.

Remy whistled happily as he stepped off the elevator with a very expensive bottle of wine tucked neatly under his arm. He stopped short and grimaced as he realized what he was whistling. What y' expect, homme? Had t' ride dat one five times.

Reaching their suite, he opened the door and announced softly, "I'm back, chere." 

There was no answer, but he could hear the bath water running. "Startin' wit'out me, cherie?" He  
scooped up two glasses from the bar near the door and headed toward the bathroom.

As he turned the corner, his heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Rogue's still form lying prone on the tiled floor. Water overflowed from the tub to pool around her.

"Rogue!" He dropped to his knees and turned her over carefully looking for signs of injury. Quickly  
shutting off the water, he lifted her gently off the wet floor. A low moan escaped her lips as he carried her to the sofa.

He lightly patted her cheek, coaxing her to full consciousness. "Rogue, c'mon, cherie," he murmured  
to her as she opened her eyes. "Y' mus' have fall'n an' hit y' head. Y' all right now."

Rogue shook her head as if trying to clear it. Her voice shook and her confusion was evident as she  
protested, "No, Remy, Ah didn't . . ."

Sudden panic filled her eyes as she struggled to sit up. "Oh mah god, Remy . . . Sinister . . .he was here! It was Sinister!"

Remy felt the blood drain from his face at her words. Sinister here? What did he want now --?   
Realization struck him as he shot up and ran toward the bedroom where he prayed his children were still sleeping. With Rogue on his heels, he flung open the door.

"No! Mah babies!" Rogue's cries echoed his own at  
the sight of the two empty beds.  



	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Scott Summers jerked awake with a start. Out of near-life long habit, he reached a hand to his eyes, checking the ruby-quartz goggles he invariably wore to bed to contain the destructive optic energy that was his mutation. After the subconscious inspection, he opened his eyes to determine what had awoken him and found himself face-to-face with his six-year-old daughter as she stood beside his bed clutching a rather worn Raggedy Ann doll.

"Rachel, sweetheart, what are you doing up?" he asked as he fumbled about the bedside table for his  
watch. 4:15 AM.

"Mommy shouted at me," the girl said petulantly.

"Huh--? Mommy's sleeping," he said groggily as he snaked his hand out to reach his wife. Finding  
himself alone in the bed, his situation came back to him as he woke fully. He was in the MedLab on  
Hank's orders due to the extent with which the chicken pox had afflicted him. Rachel, reacting to  
the disease no more seriously than most children her age, should have been in her own bed down at the boat house.

"Rachel, why are you up here? Where's Mommy?"

"Everybody's having a meeting. I went into the meeting, but Mommy told me to come down here." Rachel jutted out her lower lip. "She shouted at me," she repeated.

"I'm sure she didn't mean to shout at you." Whatever the X-Men were meeting about at four in the morning had to be serious. Scott could imagine his overly curious daughter stealing into the midst   
of the meeting and Jean pointedly telling her to leave, especially if she had already been told once to stay out of the room. 

What could be going on at this time of the morning? Scott started to rise as he called to his wife through the telepathic link they shared.

Jean?

Scott, is Rachel with you? 

Yes, she's here. What's going on?

I'll be down in a bit and explain. Just get her back into bed, will you? Jean's telepathic voice  
sounded strained in his head.

I'm coming up.

Scott Summers, if you leave that bed, I'll send Hank down to sit on you, you hear? We can handle it.

Scott grimaced. The last thing he wanted right now was to hear Hank lecture him again on why and how chicken pox was much more serious in an adult than in a child. On top of that, he knew that barring an out and out attack on the mansion, the X-Men could and would handle whatever situation without involving him. It was just so hard to let go of his role as the X-Men's leader sometimes.

He sighed and drew back the covers as he moved over. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go back to  
sleep."

Rachel climbed into the spot that he made for her and curled up beside him. He brushed back her  
bangs, pausing to press the back of his hand to her forehead. No fever. Rachel was definitely  
reacting much better to the chicken pox than he was. Scott continued to stroke her hair for a  
while then moved to rub her back gently, a method he had always used to get her to sleep when she was younger.

"What do you think Renee and Cody are doing right now?" Scott was slightly surprised by the question as he thought his daughter had already fallen asleep.

"At four in the morning, I imagine they are sleeping. Just like you should be doing." He tapped a finger to her forehead to emphasize his point.

"I wonder if they're having fun," Rachel pressed.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know you're disappointed that we had to cancel the trip. We'll go another time  
soon, I promise. Your mom and I are already talking about when would be the best time." Scott  
hugged his daughter tightly. "Don't worry, you'll get there."

Rachel remained quiet for a while. Then, just as he thought once again that she had finally fallen  
asleep, she said, "I don't think they're having a very good time."

Scott was startled by the odd statement. He couldn't ignore the ominous ring her words held.   
"Why do you say that, Rach?"

"Aunt Rogue is crying and Uncle Remy is yelling at everybody."

Scott stiffened. Rogue and Remy, here? His imagination ran wild as he envisioned all sorts of scenarios that would have brought them back a mere day and a half into their vacation. It had to be the twins.

"Stay here, Rachel," he told his daughter as he rose from the bed. Despite his wife's threat, he had to find out what the matter was.

Trading his sleeping goggles for his glasses, he made his way to the war room. All conversation stopped as he turned the corner into the room. All of the X-Men were there. And to his surprise, all were dressed in their colors except for Logan, Remy and Rogue. Usually, an impromptu meeting in the middle of the night was attended in robes and pajamas. Logan was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, and Scott guessed that he must have driven to the airport to pick up Remy and Rogue. Of those two, Remy paced agitatedly while Rogue sat crying silently at the conference table next to Ororo who was trying to comfort her. She was wringing a black object with a polka-dotted bow in her hands, and Scott's stomach sank as he recognized a child's pair of Minnie Mouse ears.

"What happened? Where are the twins?"

Rogue turned her red-rimmed eyes toward him and her silent tears turned to sobs. Remy stopped his pacing and turned his haunted eyes on him, but remained silent. Scott couldn't remember him looking so haggard. . . so defeated.

"Sinister got 'em," Logan finally answered, breaking the silence. 

"How?" Scott ignored Hank's pointed look as he took a seat. Jean proceeded to fill him in on the  
events starting with Remy's frantic phone call hours ago.

"So, now what? What have you done so far?" Scott asked when Jean brought him up to the current hour.

"We are attempting to locate Sinister through Cerebro," Ororo answered.

Scott frowned. Cerebro was designed to detect mutants by detecting the X-factor gene. Sinister, however powerful, was not a mutant, but rather a human modified by Apocalypse more than a century ago. As Sinister was one of their primary enemies, the X-Men had tried to improve Cerebro's programming to detect him by other means, but had made little progress in that area. 

Ororo continued, "But as that has never worked in the past, we are also trying to locate any of his past or current associates. If we find one of them, we may get closer to finding Sinister and the twins." 

"Associates? You mean Marauders?" Scott clarified.

"Or, what's left of them," Bishop interrupted. "Sinister seems to clone them at will when he has  
need of their services."

"And, it is for that very reason, finding them will take some time," Hank added. "Cerebro's accuracy in identifying the mutant signatures of clones is inversely proportional to the number of permutations that the clone has gone through. Scalphunter, Arclight, Harpoon -- all of them -- have been cloned and reengineered so many times, that the probability of finding them has been reduced to approximately 55. I have, however, recently made some modifications to Cerebro's signature matching algorithms to account for the variations and genetic breakdown that occurs with cloning. With those modifications, the probability currently stands at 65." Hank paused thoughtfully. "Ironically, I now find it lamentable that the brilliant, yet sadly demented, Mr. Essex has not perfected cloning to the point of being able to prevent further mutating the DNA strand."

Remy cursed and resumed his frantic pacing, pausing occasionally over one of many of Cerebro's terminals looking for results that weren't there. Scott watched him for a few moments then turned his eyes back to Rogue. She had stopped crying, but she was still uncharacteristically silent as she stared at the center of the table. Scott wished she would give in to her normal ranting rather than the despair that was evident on her face. He turned back to Hank.

"What about the modifications that you have been working on to detect the dormant X-factor gene in mutants that haven't matured into their mutations yet? Can we find Renee and Cody that way?"

"We were just debating the effectiveness of that course of action when you joined us -- against my orders, I might add." Scott opened his mouth to defend himself, but Hank waved his reply away and continued, "While I have completed the initial testing of that programming, I have not had time to refine it in such a way that Cerebro will be able to differentiate between the results. The search  
would include not only adolescents that haven't come into their mutations yet, but also anyone  
whose X-factor gene has remained dormant and never become active at all. And, it will detect mature adults whose mutations are so obscure that they aren't even aware that they are mutants. With more mutants being born everyday, the search would produce tens of thousands -- perhaps hundreds of thousands -- of matches. Sorting through that data could take days."

Rogue's eyes snapped to Hank. "Days? We don't have days, Hank. There's no telling what  
Sinister has already done to them let alone what he will do if ..." Her voice broke as tears threatened to spill over once again. Remy stopped behind Rogue's chair and placed his hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. Leaning down, he murmured something in her ear. Rogue closed her eyes and nodded minutely.

"Hank, couldn't we cross-match their brain-wave patterns in the search algorithm to further restrict the search?" Warren suggested.

Hank adjusted his glasses thoughtfully and started to respond, but Remy interrupted.

"Non. Dat won' work. Sinister, he always uses psi-dampenin' field generators in his labs. We won' get any brain wave match on dem." Remy choked off a bitter laugh. "Findin' de Marauders our best hope, non?"

The room fell silent again as everyone conceded the point. Scott's head pounded and he shivered  
spasmodically from a chill produced by the fever he knew was returning. He closed his eyes against the feeling of helplessness that threatened to overtake him. 

"However slim the chances are, there still is a chance. Hank, go ahead and start the search," he directed. "One of these searches has got to produce something."  



	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Cody. . . Cody! C'mon, wake up," Renee LeBeau urged as she shook her brother awake.

Cody pushed her hands away and turned over, burrowing further beneath the blanket. "Go  
'way, Rennie."

Renee watched him roll over and felt her bottom lip tremble. No! She wasn't going to cry like ababy. She was a big girl now. She didn't know where she was or where Mama and Daddy were, but she wasn't going to be a baby.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep last night was watching the castle and pretending she was a princess dancing at a ball. She vaguely recalled having a bad dream about a beast with red eyes, though she couldn't remember it clearly. Then she woke up this morning in the same bed with Cody, but they weren't in their hotel room. This room was dark and had no windows except for one in the door, far too high for her to see out. Enough light spilled in from that window that Renee could see that the bed they slept in was the only thing in the room -- no furniture, no pictures, no toys. Not knowing where she was, she immediately went to try and find her mama but found that the door was locked.

That was when she really started to get scared. Mama and Daddy never locked her in her room.  
Sometimes, they sent her to her room as punishment, like the time she and Rachel were playing beauty shop and cut Aunt Betsy's hair while she was sleeping. She and Rachel had been in plenty of trouble that time. But they never locked her in. And one or both of them always came and got her when her time out was over.

Clutching her stuffed rabbit to her, her hands idly worried at his fuzzy ears while she watched Cody a moment longer. Determined, she climbed on the bed, knelt over him and shook him once again.  
"Cody, I'm scared."

He finally rolled back over to face her. "Rennie, whatsa matter?" he asked drowsily as he rubbed his eyes with his small fists.

"I don't like this place," she whispered.

Cody propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room, mouth hanging open. He turned his wide eyes back to Renee. "Where are we?"

Renee squeezed her eyes shut against the stinging tears. She had so hoped her brother would know what was going on.

Cody climbed out of bed and padded to the door. Reaching up, he grasped the handle and tried to turn it. When it wouldn't turn, he grabbed it with both hands and yanked on it with all his might.

"Daddy? Mama?" he called while he pulled on the handle frantically.

Renee gave in to her tears as she ran over to join her brother at the door. While he worked the knob, she began banging on it with both hands.

"Mama! Daddy!" Their fervent cries grew louder and mingled as one.

Alone and bored, the woman sat before an array of candles arranged in a spiral pattern on the table in front of her. Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration as she focused on igniting each candle individually. It was an exercise she practiced repeatedly, and she almost had it refined to a point that the effect was fluid movement, like an intricate string of dominoes toppling in a continuous chain.

Telekinetically generating fire was easy for her. It was, after all, her mutation. However, controlling that power to the point of creating a single flame without burning everything around her took an amazing effort of concentration.

Nearly half of the arrangement was illuminated when her concentration was shattered by the cries and pounding coming from the door behind her. The flame she had been focusing on flared suddenly to engulf the entire arrangement and herself in a brilliant flash. Instinctively raising her arms to shield her head, she forcefully kicked the table away from her. At the same time, the action propelled her backward in her chair, slamming her against the wall and knocking her to the floor. With little in the  
stark room to fuel the fire, the brief flash died quickly leaving scraps of burning debris scattered on the table and floor around her.

The woman picked herself up off the floor and checked herself for burns. She found none, and although by now she should have been used to it, she was nonetheless amazed. When Essex had first brought her here, he had outfitted her in a shimmering, gun-metal gray suit that covered her from chin to toe. The material had been specially designed to be not only flame-retardant but virtually fire-proof.

For her head and hands, he had created a full-headed mask and gloves out of a clear, pliable polymer that could withstand even higher temperatures than the rest of her suit. The transparent mask eerily smoothed out the scarred skin beneath it, giving her face a smooth, marbleized and plastic look. Her hair, eyebrows and eyelashes had been burned away long ago, and when she first glimpsed herself in a mirror dressed this way, she ruefully thought she looked like one of those crash test dummies seen in television commercials promoting the use of safety belts. These days, she avoided mirrors altogether.

Sighing in exasperation, she righted the chair and stamped out the bits of debris on the floor that hadn't already burned out. She then retrieved a blanket made of the same material as her suit and draped it over the table to smother the remaining flames. After dousing the last of the fire, she set about rearranging the now-misshapen candles. With a disgusted glance at the door where the two children still clamored, she sat down and braced her forehead in her hands in an effort to regain her concentration.

She heard the footsteps of someone approaching but didn't look up. She didn't need to. She knew very well who it was. The man stopped just behind her left shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his thigh-high boots and the red lining in the ribbons of cloth that made up his cloak. Without acknowledging his presence, she continued to stare down at the table, focusing on the candle nearest her.

"Flare."

His rich voice resonated through her as he uttered the single syllable. She cringed. She despised the name that he had given her. To her, it was a mockery. It represented everything that was wrong with her power. She had little control over the fire that she generated and, as had happened just moments ago, it often flared to swallow her and everything around her when she used it.

"You are supposed to be looking after the children," he admonished.

Without looking at him, she replied, "I didn't come here to baby-sit a couple of brats." She hated the sound of her raspy voice. Her scarred vocal cords were another result of her inability to control her power.

His long fingers reached out to cup her chin as he turned her head and forced her to meet his eyes. She stared at him defiantly, but didn't speak further.

He cocked an eyebrow at her boldness and tightened his grip on her chin. "You came here to serve me in return for helping you to master your powers. The service I require of you now is to look after these children. They are very important to my research." He lifted her chin higher, his gloved fingers digging into her. "You would do well to remember your place here."

Sinister lessened the grip on her chin as Flare lowered her eyes submissively. "That's better. Now, come. You are to see to it that these children are calmed down and given something to eat."

Flare felt a brief surge of panic. She didn't want anything to do with these children. She resented Essex for bringing them here in the middle of the night and making her, of all people, watch over them. He knew her past. He should know that she couldn't bear facing them, calming them, mothering them. . .

"Please, I can't. . ." she whispered.

Sinister regarded her for a long moment, then urged her out of her chair with a hand on her shoulder. "Come."

Rising obediently, she followed him to the door, hanging behind him as he unlocked it. Suddenly  
thrown off balance by the open door, the two children inside stumbled backward, landing solidly on their backsides. The action was enough to startle the tears from them as they gaped up at the two adults.

Flare regarded them dispassionately as fear coalesced on their faces. She could easily imagine how frightening she and Sinister appeared to the children -- Sinister with his pallid skin, red eyes and peculiar red diamond in the middle of his forehead; she with her badly scarred visage distorted even more by the clear plastic mask.

"Good morning, children. I am Mr. Essex and this is Flare," Sinister greeted them with a forced smile. Although Flare didn't think it was possible, the children's eyes widened even more at the sight of Sinister's pointed teeth.

The girl gave out a little whimper as she sidled closer to her brother.

"Where's Mama?" the boy asked.

Sinister's smile turned menacing. "She and your father are gone. They left you here and they  
won't be coming back."

Flare looked up sharply at the cold reply. So much for calming them. On the floor, the stunned children stared at Sinister in alarmed silence. Flare watched their faces slowly contort into anguished expressions as first one then the other started to wail.

She stepped forward reflexively to reach out and comfort the children then caught herself. Choking back the brief surge of tenderness, she straightened and looked away from them.

Sinister turned to leave the room and paused to look back at her. "See that they get something  
to eat and bring the boy to me in two hours."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Flare gritted her teeth and resisted the temptation to cover her ears against the keening cries of the two children. The way Sinister deliberately provoked them and left them for her to deal with infuriated her. She was sure his intent was to unnerve her more than it was to scare the children.

"Shut up!" she yelled as loudly as her damaged voice would allow. She punctuated the command  
with a forceful blow to the door that sent it flying back against the wall. The reverberation of the door bouncing off the wall was enough to subdue the children's cries.

"That's better," she told them calmly. While their sobs had abated, she knew she had to quickly allay their fears before they started crying again.

"Now, then, Mr. Sin-- Essex lied to you. Your mother and father are coming back. They just  
had to leave you here for a few days."

"When?" the boy asked tremulously.

"Next week," she lied. It would be far easier to put off their questions of when their parents were coming back than to deal with their fears of them never coming back.

"Where did they go?" he pressed.

"Why didn't they leave us at home?" the girl asked in a tiny voice, apparently emboldened by her brother's questions.

"I don't know," she answered, her voice tinged with exasperation. She cut off any further questions as she added, "You can ask them when they get back. Now, are you hungry or not?"

"I have to go to the bathroom," the girl said.

Flare nodded and looked at her brother. "You. Do you have to go to the bathroom, too?"

He nodded as he told her, "My name's Cody."

Flare put her hand up and shook her head. "I don't want to know your names."

He continued, "And she's Renee."

"What did I just tell you?" Flare snapped. She already had more of an obligation to these children than she wanted. Knowing their names would only weaken her resolve to stay detached.  
The damage already done, she steeled herself and turned to the door before they dissolved into  
tears again at her raised voice.

"Let's go," she told them. Without waiting to see if they followed, she left the room.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Flare took them to the kitchen. It wasn't a kitchen really. Rather, it was an employee break room in the abandoned clinic that Sinister had taken over as his laboratory. However, with refrigerator, sink, microwave, toaster oven and long-forgotten vending machines, it more than served their purpose.

"Sit down," she said to the children as she gestured toward the tables and the gaudy red plastic chairs. Now the question was, what was there for them to eat? With only she and Essex in residence, they never bothered to stock the kitchen except for the bare essentials. She usually got by on a tuna or cheese sandwich, a piece of fruit and lots of coffee. If she wanted something substantial, she'd walk to one of the fast food restaurants a few blocks away. She had no idea what Essex ate, or even if he ate at all.

Unfortunately, she had finished the last of the bag of apples yesterday, and there were only two slices of bread left. Taking some cheese from the refrigerator, she placed some on each of the two slices of bread and stuck them in the toaster oven. Then, she turned to the snack machine. Though it had not been stocked in months, it still contained a dozen or so snacks. However, the only thing left that was not candy or otherwise contained an incredible amount of sugar was a bag of microwaveable popcorn.

Reaching through the broken glass of the front panel, she grabbed the remaining bag. It wasn't  
exactly breakfast food, but it would have to do.

After a few minutes, she set the cheese melts, popcorn and two Styrofoam cups filled with the half and half she used in her coffee before the two children. They eyed the meal dubiously.

"We usually have cereal or pancakes for breakfast," the boy--Cody--said.

"Sometimes french toast," his sister added.

"Well this is all we have here, so that's all you're getting. Eat it or go hungry," Flare said curtly as she set about brewing some coffee for herself.

The children started eating, tentatively at first then with more enthusiasm. Eventually, they grew more at ease and more animated as they made a game of divvying up the popcorn. Flare watched them without interest as they then turned their attention to a whiteboard they found mounted on the wall complete with markers and an eraser. Dragging their chairs over to help them reach it, they entertained themselves by drawing pictures and writing their names on the board.

She let them play by themselves for a while. At least it would keep them occupied until she had to take the boy to Sinister. She shuddered. She didn't want to think about what kinds of experiments Sinister had in mind for these kids. She now realized that he must have been planning to kidnap them for months. Sinister had first brought her here almost three months ago with a promise to help her learn to control her powers in return for assisting him in his research. However, until now, he hadn't conducted any research here at all; and, his so-called help mainly consisted of providing her with a fire-proof uniform and a place to practice while he left her here alone for weeks at a time. The only time she saw him during those three months was when he ferried equipment here from his larger laboratory in Atlanta. Even on those days, they had little interaction as he spent his time preparing his lab and setting up what she recognized to be psi-dampeners. She had no idea who these children belonged to, but Sinister obviously wanted to make sure they couldn't be found.

She sighed as she checked the clock. It was almost time. She pushed her thoughts aside. It was best not to dwell on Sinister's intent. She would do as he asked and not question his methods.

"Let's go," she said and left the room, leaving the children to catch up to her.

"What are we doing now, Flare?" It was the boy again.

She whirled on him. "Don't call me that."

"Why? Isn't that your name?"

"No." She glared at him. Why couldn't he be quieter and more intimidated like his sister? "Don't call me anything. Just don't talk to me."

She turned and continued toward their make-shift bedroom as the children followed quietly. When they reached the room, she let Renee pass through the door, but she held Cody back. With a little more than a twinge of guilt that she quickly suppressed, she shut and locked the door.

"Cody!" She could hear the girl start to cry and bang on the door. Cody looked up at her in confusion and fear. She watched him for a moment then turned once again.

"Come with me."

She turned back after a few steps when she realized that the boy had not moved. He remained planted by the door, looking between her and the locked door indecisively.

"Come on," she repeated.

Still, he didn't move. Flare advanced on him and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Now!" she hissed as she pulled him along.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You have a doctor's appointment," she told him.

"But Uncle Hank is my doctor--"

"Your Uncle Hank isn't here."

"But--"

"Enough! Don't you ever listen? I told you not to talk to me!" She saw the boy's lip quiver as he hung his head and followed her to Sinister's lab.

When they entered the room, Sinister looked up from a stool near the examining table where he was preparing a tray of needles, syringes and scalpels. Cody eyed the room anxiously as he snaked his hand into Flare's gloved one and moved to hide behind her. Flare stared down at their enfolded hands and felt a pang of sorrow. She closed her eyes and briefly tightened her grip on the small hand.

Then she unfolded his hand from hers. "Don't touch me," she whispered.

"Flare, bring him. Place him on the table."

She hesitated a moment, then bolstering her resolve, she picked the boy up and brought him to Sinister. She was stunned when Cody didn't resist her as she set him on the examining table. She realized that although he was frightened of Sinister, he trusted her. Despite her animosity and her attempts to distance herself, this child trusted that she would not hurt him -- or let him be hurt. The realization unsettled her.

Suddenly, Sinister pushed him down so that he lay on his back and proceeded to secure his arms  
to the table. Cody cried out in panic. The trust in his eyes was replaced with terror as he kicked his legs and tossed his head about in a frenzy.

"Hold him," Sinister commanded.

Mechanically, Flare complied. She held him down while Sinister fastened restraints about his wrists, ankles, chest and forehead. Fully restrained, Cody sobbed brokenly. Flare backed slowly away from the table unable to tear her eyes away from the terrified boy.

"Flare, don't leave me. Please, Flare! Mama! I want my mama!"

This time Flare did cover her ears with her hands as she rushed out of the room. She stopped just outside the double swinging doors and leaned back against the wall. She could still hear his plaintive cries for his mother and for her. Slowly, she slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor, her hands still desperately trying to block out his terrible screaming.

She was overwhelmed by a flood of memories. . .

. . . "Mommy! Please, Mommy, no more!"

She looked up from the tear-stained face of the blond six-year-old she held still on the examining table.

The doctor met her eyes. "Just one more stitch."

She leaned back down and pressed her lips to her son's forehead as she tightened her hands on either side of his face to hold him still.

"Just one more, Josh. That's all. You're such a brave boy. One more." She murmured the words  
soothingly while she barely managed to control her own tears. She could feel him trembling and  
fighting the urge to move as he emitted a high-pitched moan that lasted the entire time it took the physician to knot the last suture in his chin.

"There. That should do it," the doctor said when he finished. She quickly gathered her son into her arms and rocked him gently. "You can bring him back in ten days to have the stitches removed, Mrs.--"

"Miss," she corrected.

"Miss Warner, and you can give him some children's Tylenol for the sprained wrist. And you, Joshua," he added as he tousled the boy's hair, "might want to stay off of those monkey bars for a while."

"Thank you, doctor," she said as she gathered her belongings to leave . . .

Flare repressed the rest of the memory as she realized that Cody's cries had been silenced.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Remy stared at the continuously scrolling data on the monitor in front of him. It was past noon, and still there was not one lead. Other than spitting out copious amounts of data on people with unrealized mutations, Cerebro remained silent.

He heaved a sigh and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had not slept in more than 30 hours, and staring at the computer monitor made his eyes blur from exhaustion. Still, despite the urgings of his friends and teammates, he would not sleep. He rose and stretched the stiffness from his body.

Eyeing the plate of food that Ororo had brought him, he picked up half of a sandwich and studied it indifferently. He wondered if they were any more successful in convincing Rogue to get some sleep. He doubted it, even though he hadn't seen her since Jean dragged her out of the War Room several hours ago. Concentrating, he catalogued the movements of the household with his mutant ability and found Rogue right where he guessed she would be. He supposed he should go to her, offer her reassurance, but it was difficult to offer her something that he could barely summon for himself. He tossed the uneaten sandwich aside. What he needed was a shower to help wake him up, then he'd go find his wife.

Fifteen minutes later, Remy stepped from the shower feeling somewhat more refreshed and clear-headed. Entering his bedroom, he noticed Rogue's clothes piled on their bed. She obviously had changed into her uniform as well so that she could be out the door as soon as Cerebro turned something up. Donning his uniform, he spied a twisted ringlet of metal lying half underneath the bed. He bent to pick it up and recognized it as the remains of the suppression collar that Rogue had been wearing. He contemplated the damaged necklace for a few moments then headed for his children's bedroom.

He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the jamb as he spotted his wife seated on the floor between the twin beds. She held onto a stuffed dog, her hands idly tracing the stitching where she had replaced the ear for the third time just last week. It was Cody's dog, Lucky. It had been accidentally left behind when they left on their vacation, and Cody had fussed for over an hour their first night at the hotel when he couldn't find it.

"Ah found Lucky under a pile of Cody's clothes," Rogue said numbly without looking up at him. "Ah must have overlooked it when Ah repacked his suitcase. Ah should have checked for it before we left. If he gets scared, he likes to have it with him."

Remy pushed himself away from the door and sat down on the floor beside her. Wordlessly, he held up the twisted necklace. Rogue glanced sidelong at it then turned her attention back to the stuffed animal.

"Ah'm nevah wearing it again," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Rogue, it's not y' fault."

Her eyes snapped to his. A flash of anger replaced the despondency that had been there for the past twelve hours. "How can it not be mah fault? If Ah wasn't wearing that thing, Sinister never would have gotten mah babies."

Remy sighed. They had already been through this once on the plane back to New York. "Y' don' know dat. Sinister, he's...unbeatable. How many years de X-Men been trying t' defeat him an' he gets away ev'ry time?"

"He might have gotten away, but he wouldn't have gotten Cody and Renee if Ah hadn't been wearing it."

Remy put his arm around her shoulder and tried to draw her close. "If y' hadn' been wearin' it you wouldn' have been able t' kiss y' chillen g'night, hug 'em, hold 'em..."

She shrugged him away. Rising, she paced the room restlessly. "Ah let myself become vulnerable and now they're gone. And it is mah fault."

Remy rose as well but didn't join her in her pacing. "So now what? Y' sayin' you're never goin' to hold y' chillen again?" He couldn't quite keep the agitation from creeping into his voice.

Rogue whirled on him, the horror in her eyes evident. "Don't say that!"

"Isn't dat what you're sayin'? Wit'out dat inhibitor, you'll always be holdin' dem at arm's lengt'. Always wit' gloved hands. Always bein' careful dat dey don' touch y' face--"

Rogue cut him off. "Don't you see? Ah've become too dependent on that." She waved at the ruined collar in frustration. "Ah've given up on trying to control mah powers and let a piece of metal do it for me."

"Y' gave up on tryin' t' control y' powers long before you ever put dis t'ing on," Remy retorted. As soon as the words were out, he wished he could pull them back. He didn't want to antagonize her when they were both already strung out emotionally over their children.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Remy sighed and shook his head. "Not'ing. I..." He was about to apologize then changed his mind. He forged ahead. "It's jus' dat y' spent so many years hidin' behind de fact dat y' couldn' touch people. Y' gave up on tryin' t' control it an' used it as an excuse to distance y'self so y' couldn' be hurt. Den y' finally took control of y' life wit' dis collar." Remy crossed the room and reaching out, gently caressed her cheek with his gloved hand. "I don' wan' t' see y' t'row dat away and go back t' shuttin' y'self off from everyone again. Especially, y' chillen."

Unconvinced, Rogue tried to turn away, but Remy held onto her. He continued, "Y' should try t' learn t' control y' powers. I'm not sayin' y' shouldn't. But it's not goin' t' happen over night. Cody and Renee need deir mother. Pushing dem away until you do would be cruel."

Rogue shook her head hopelessly. "Ah --"

A polite cough interrupted her response, and they turned in unison to find Ororo in the doorway. "Remy, Rogue, Cerebro has found something."

. . "Can we go to McDonalds for dinner?" the blond six-year-old asked as he fidgeted before his mother. She crouched in front of him, helping him zip up his coat before they left the hospital emergency room.

"Yeah, I suppose we can do that. It's getting kind of late to make dinner anyway," she told him with a smile. She was only slightly amazed at how quickly he recovered from the frightening experience of getting stitches. Children were so resilient. She, on the other hand, was still shaking. She stood and took his hand. "Okay, Josh, ready?"

"Miss Warner, I'm so glad I caught you." A young woman whom she recognized as the clerk that had helped with the paperwork stopped her. "I need you to sign just one more form that I missed earlier. Would you mind coming back in for a moment?"

Following the young woman to the front desk, she let go of Josh's hand. The boy stayed close to her, taking in all of the fast-paced activity of the ER with wide eyes. Suddenly a cacophony of shouts, running feet and banging doors rose above the steady confusion. She turned towards the chaos and watched the scene in alarm. Police officers were wrestling with two men that they had just brought in. One of the men was handcuffed and bleeding profusely while the other was thrashing wildly on the floor as the officers, joined by hospital security, tried to pin him to the ground and re-cuff him. Looking down, she panicked when she realized that Josh had left her side.

"Josh! Josh!" She scanned the ER frantically and found her son inching closer to the scene . . .

The sound of the door opening startled Flare from her memories. She lifted her head from the cradle of her arms and looked up at Sinister questioningly.

"I'm finished with the boy for now. Take him back to bed and let him sleep off the sedative." Without waiting for her acknowledgment, he turned down the hallway and disappeared.

Flare rose from the floor where she had spent the last two hours haunted by her memories. Peering inside the room, she could see Cody lying motionless on the examination table, the restraints still fastened around him. She hesitated at the door. He looked so small and deathly still. Only the gentle rise and fall of his chest assured her that he was indeed still alive.

She willed herself to move fully into the room and over to the examination table. Removing the restraints, she studied the boy intently. His auburn hair and eyelashes stood out in stark contrast against his pale face. She could see that Sinister had cut away several locks of hair over his left ear where he had made a small incision. She gently probed the incision and wondered just what Sinister's research entailed. Running her eyes down the small body, she noted his iodine-stained inner elbows decorated with tiny needle punctures. Underneath the punctures, the boy's arms were dark with bruises from the careless removal of the needles. As she inventoried the various small wounds, Flare felt disgust rise within her towards Sinister. He had taken this boy from his family, terrorized him, strapped him to a table and experimented on him with apparently no more regard than one might give a laboratory rat.

Carefully, she lifted the boy up and settled him against her shoulder. He stirred slightly and nestled  
his head in the crook of her neck. She braced herself against the flood of memories the intimacy engendered. Gritting her teeth, she repositioned him, causing a small whimper to escape his lips.

She wavered, then sighing, she tentatively stroked his hair with her gloved hand. "Shhh, Cody, it's all  
right," she murmured as she took him back to his room.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Well, mon ami, what y' t'ink? Dis de place?" Remy asked as he watched Wolverine intently. The two X-Men huddled closely together in the shadows of a narrow alley, flanking the rear delivery doorway of an aging office building. Wolverine sniffed the air audibly as Remy looked over the building once again. It appeared to have been abandoned long ago. The few windows that were on the ground level were boarded over with graffiti-covered plywood while the windows on the upper levels that weren't broken were opaque with white paint. A heavy, rusted chain and padlock adorned the door where a torn, faded notice instructed all inquiries be made to Perpetual Realty.

He knew from Iceman's reconnoiter on the street-side of the building that not only was this particular office shut down, but nearly all of the businesses in this neighborhood were as well. On this block, only a barber shop and a corner market continued to operate in silent defiance of the crumbling community around them. By all appearances, it seemed that Cerebro had sent them on a wild goose chase, but Remy was actually encouraged. This was exactly the type of place that Sinister would hide away in.

"Yeah, she's here. Cerebro might have trouble identifying the Marauders, but they still stink the same. It's Arclight, all right."

Remy closed his eyes and cast his mutant senses out to skim the interior of the building. "Dere's t'ree  
people in dere. One on dis level, two upstairs, far corner of de building."

"The twins?" Rogue asked desperately from over his shoulder. He turned to study her. It was the first spark of emotion that he had seen or heard from her since Storm interrupted their argument a few hours before. At Cerebro's announcement that it had found one of the mutant signatures it searched for, Rogue had assumed a cloak of detached professionalism. He wasn't sure if she was preparing herself for the worst, or maybe trying to make sure that no one even dare suggest that she not go on the mission, but he worried that she was already locking parts of herself away. She seemed to be trying to make herself as invulnerable emotionally as she was physically.

Wolverine shook his head. "No darlin', sorry. There are a lot of different scents here, but I can't pick up theirs. I don't think they've been here."

Remy thought he saw a flicker of despair in her face, but it was quickly replaced by her mask of forced aloofness. He swallowed his own disappointment and turned back to Wolverine. "Sinister?"

"Yeah, but his scent is old. He ain't here now. Don't think he's been here for a while."

"Wolverine," Storm called through their comm link. Remy looked skyward at the sound of her voice, knowing that she hovered somewhere above them, but he couldn't make her out through the thick fog that she generated to cover them. "Can you identify the three people here now?"

"Arclight, Scalphunter and...Harpoon...No, scent's too stale." Wolverine sniffed the air again and his eyes twinkled with a feral gleam. "No, not Harpoon, Riptide. Arclight, Scalphunter and Riptide."

Remy pushed his senses further and tried to identify the movements of the three inside to give him some clue as to who was where. "De one downstairs is doin'...somet'ing...liftin' weights, I t'ink. Dat's Arclight--I'd bet anyt'ing. De other two are sittin'...maybe watchin' TV."

"Guess they're not expecting company then." Wolverine smiled. To anyone else, it would appear that he was baring his teeth in a snarl, but Remy recognized it as barely restrained excitement at the prospect of tussling with their old enemies again.

"Good. The element of surprise is on our side," Storm said. "Wolverine, Gambit and Rogue, you go after Arclight. If you can take her out quickly and get some answers from her, we may be able to avoid an all out battle. Bishop, Iceman and I will cover the stairs. Then, if Scalphunter and Riptide are alerted to your presence, we will hold them off when they come to help her."

Extracting a pick from one of his many pockets, Remy went to work on the locks. Despite the rusted exterior, the padlock yielded to his practiced touch with a smoothness that belied the apparent age of the lock and chain. He found the lock on the door to be in the same condition as he felt the tumblers click easily into place. Pushing the door open fractionally, he studied the frame for signs of a security system and was disturbed when he found none. The locks would not have deterred even the most amateur thief, and he felt his confidence begin to crumble. Perhaps Cerebro had sent them to the wrong place after all.

He pushed the thought aside as he opened the door fully, pausing to allow Wolverine and Rogue to slip quietly inside ahead of him. As silent as a stalking predator, Wolverine took the lead, with Rogue following closely down the fluorescent-lighted corridor. Remy kept them in sight but hung back a little and scanned the hallway with a sweeping glance.

From the building's run-down exterior, he had expected the inside to be just as shabby. Instead, the pristine white walls, tiled floor and keypad-secured doors reminded him of the basement level of the mansion. He realized that like the rusted padlock, the decrepit-looking building was merely a facade, a perfect cover for Sinister's so-called research.

He paused by a door that stood slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he peered around it. The small room looked as sterile as the hallway he stood in. A stripped-down bed took up most of the space and was surrounded by monitors and various other equipment. At first glance, it looked like a hospital room, but a chill swept through him at the sight of the heavy metal restraints at each corner of the bed. He had no trouble imagining what Sinister did here, and brittle anger flooded through him as an unbidden vision of his children harnessed in that bed came to him.

A low growl sounded near him, and he glanced sidelong at Wolverine. "This whole floor smells of antiseptic. Sinister's definitely done some experimentin' here. But there ain't no one here now. Let's go get Arclight."

Remy hesitated a moment longer, then forced the image from his mind as he turned to follow Wolverine. They passed several more rooms then turned a corner where he spied Rogue hovering near an open door. She pressed a finger to her lips in silent warning then pointed into the room with a nod. Reaching the door, he peered cautiously around the corner and heard a small snigger from Wolverine as he did the same. Arclight lay on her back on a weight bench with her head towards the door, gripping a barbell that dipped slightly at either end from the impossibly large iron weights in place there. Based on his countless hours in the gym at home with Rogue, he guessed she must have been pressing at least half a ton. His wife usually pressed four times as much for a light workout.

With a signal from Wolverine, the threesome moved into the room not even bothering to be particularly quiet. Remy smirked at Arclight's obvious inattention. If she just tilted her head back, she would have easily seen them. As it was, she concentrated fully on lifting the barbell, and the rhythmic whoosh as she expelled each breath drowned out the slight scraping sound of his boots on the tiled floor.

Carefully hovering just out of the Marauder's line of sight, Rogue caught the bar as Arclight pressed into a full extension. Remy watched the woman's eyes widen at the sudden weightlessness and heard her gasp as he and Wolverine moved to stand on either side of the bench. Arclight was too stunned to even let go of the bar and simply gaped up at them. Any other time, he might have laughed at the comical sight, but now, teeming with anger and nervous anticipation of being closer to finding his children, he only wanted answers. And he knew he would gladly use force to get them.

Wolverine was not so restrained as he guffawed loudly at the woman. "Been a long time, Arc. Sorry to bust in on yer bodybuildin'. We knocked, but since ya didn't hear us, we just let ourselves in."

The woman's eyes narrowed briefly, then she grinned as if she were facing a favored opponent on even ground instead of being outnumbered, outmatched and in a defenseless position. "So, what brings you X-jokes to our humble abode?" Her brazen attitude reminded Remy of Wolverine's cockiness in many similar situations where the odds were reversed. Or his own, he realized.

Remy moved closer to the bench and glared at the woman. "Where's Sinister?" He knew that his eyes flashed with his anger, but Arclight didn't even flinch.

"I have no idea," she replied in a saccharine voice, her smile never leaving her face. All of a sudden, she released her grip on the suspended barbell and lunged at him. Expecting such a move, Remy braced himself for the blow, but instead of attacking, she grabbed his coat and flung him across the bench toward Wolverine. As he crashed into Logan, sending them both to the floor, he heard, rather than saw, Rogue pitch the bar and weights behind her where they landed with a resounding clatter.

As Remy rolled to his feet, he saw that Arclight had gotten to hers on the opposite side of the bench. Wolverine and Rogue launched themselves at the woman from opposite sides. But before either X-Men could reach her, the Marauder crouched low to the ground and raised her clenched fists above her, ready to strike the ground as a tantrum-throwing child might. But this was no child. He realized that if they allowed her to follow through with the action, shewould create a shockwave equal in intensity to a small earthquake. "Stop her!"

Arclight's fists finished their path with a seismic force that shook the entire building. The floor  
buckled in concentric waves, throwing him and Wolverine both to their knees. But Rogue was airborne, and Remy watched as rage cracked her mask of detachment just before she slammed into the Marauder, throwing them both back against the far wall.

Bishop cracked open the door to the stairwell marked "fire exit" and cocked his head to listen for a moment. Satisfied, he closed the door again, glanced down the hallway toward Storm and shook his head. There was still no sign of Scalphunter and Riptide. The stairwell was situated in the corner of the building just where the hallway made a right turn, so that from his vantage point, he was able to see both the door that they had come through and the open doorway where he knew that the other's had found Arclight. So far all was quiet in that room as well.

"Wonder what's going on in there," Iceman commented from in front of the elevator. He sat on a three-foot high block of ice that he had created to prop open the elevator and keep it on the ground floor. That left only two means for Scalphunter and Riptide to come down -- the stairwell where they currently stood and the one at the end of the hallway where they had come in.

Bishop strained to make out any conversation coming from that room, but couldn't. He assumed they must have restrained Arclight due to the lack of noise -- that woman was anything but quiet. He was about to tell Iceman as much when a loud metallic crash reverberated from within the room punctuated by Gambit shouting "Stop her!" Shouldering his pulse rifle, he covered the doorway and waited for the Marauder to come running through. Without warning, the building began to quake and the floor rippled with a shockwave that had the tiles erupting into the air from the force. As Bishop fought to maintain his footing, he was aware of Iceman trying to build an ice slide to avoid the buckling floor. Without a stationary foundation though, the slides kept shattering and finally Iceman gave up and crouched beside Bishop as the two men waited out the small quake.

No sooner had the shockwave dissipated than a slamming door and pounding footfalls echoed in the stairwell. Bishop shot to his feet and swung his rifle toward the door. "Storm, they're here," he shouted down the hallway where the Windrider covered the back stairwell.

"So much for getting in and out without alerting the troops," Iceman quipped, just as the fire exit door shot open.

Bishop had a small moment to enjoy the shocked expression on Scalphunter's face as the Marauder burst through the door and came face to face with Bishop's plasma rifle. Scalphunter quickly swung his own weapon up, but before he could get off a shot, Bishop pulled the trigger. The rifle emitted a plasma pulse that sent the Marauder careening past the stairs and slamming into the cement wall behind him.

Bishop barely had time to relish the small victory before the spinning dervish that was Riptide launched himself through the door. He knew that he was in far more danger from this Marauder than he had been from Scalphunter. Riptide was a human tornado -- a mutant Tasmanian Devil, Wolverine had once told him, though at the time, Bishop had not been familiar with the cartoon and pondered the comparison until Iceman made him watch cartoons one Saturday morning. He used scraps of metal as weapons, propelling the miniprojectiles through the air with hurricane force

Iceman forced his way past Bishop, hurriedly erecting an ice shield against the deadly debris the Marauder now discharged, but not before Bishop felt several stinging lacerations cover his arms. Once the shield was erected, he could hear the dull, rapid plinks of the flurry of weapons as they furiously embedded themselves in the ice.

The small roar of Riptide's tornado suddenly doubled in intensity as the shower of debris on Iceman's shield died down. Bishop risked a look around the shield and found Storm riding the wind above them, commanding her own tornado around the spinning Marauder. The outer cyclone swept up the flying weapons as quickly as the Riptide discharged them, keeping them safely aloft. A movement from the stairwell caught Bishops's attention a mere second before he was covered in a shower of ice as their shield exploded in a bright blast. Scalphunter was up and he was aiming a second blast at Iceman.

Bishop shoved his teammate to the ground as the plasma burst grazed his shoulder. Rising, he took the third blast in the chest which merely knocked him back several paces as the energy spread through him like currents of electricity. While Scalphunter trained his weapon once again on Iceman, Bishop concentrated on rechanneling the energy that surged through him. He extended his arms and released a blast directly into the center of the raging storm. The blast caught Riptide and sent him spinning out of control straight into Scalphunter who tried desperately to evade the flurry of weapons, and the two Marauders crashed into the wall in a bloody tangle of arms and legs.

"Where are mah children?" Rogue demanded.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Archlight ground out as she struggled to break the iron grip that threatened to crush her arms. Of all the X-Men, Rogue was the only one that outmatched her in raw strength, but even she was vulnerable to her deadly shockwave if she could just find a way to strike her. Before she could break loose, Gambit was on top of her grasping her silver body suit with his left hand. Her eyes widened as she saw her suit begin to glow where he charged it. Warmth spread through her as the biokinetic charge extended to her entire torso. Rogue finally released her arms, but she didn't dare strike out now. She knew that any impact would detonate the charge immediately -- if Gambit didn't do it first.

"What! Are you crazy, Cajun?" she screamed. "You'll kill us all!"

His eyes blazed and this time she couldn't help but flinch. "Well, Rogue's invulnerable -- she won' e'en feel it. An' Wolverine, he'll live. An' me... if y' haven' already heard, I'm already dead. Now, y' wan' t' test me?"

Arclight had no idea what that meant, but the look in his eyes told her that he was very willing to kill her. "What do you want?"

"Where's Sinister?"

"I told you. I have no idea."

Wolverine tapped a long claw against an uncharged portion of the her body suit and raised an eyebrow. The threat was obvious. They were all crazy.

"C'mon darlin'. We know he's been here. Can smell the lunatic. Where'd he go?"She split her attention between the tapping claw and the orange glow spreading through her suit. She didn't know what Sinister was up to, but it sure had gotten under the X-Men's skin. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth dying for. "I really don't know. He left here about a week ago. Haven't seen him since."

"He didn' say where he goin' or when he'd be back?" Gambit asked.

She snorted. "You worked for him once, Cajun. Did he ever tell you what he was up to?"

Gambit's eyes narrowed and she saw his hand vibrate dangerously. "Who's wit' him? 'Poon?"

"I don't think so. Harpoon left this morning to go hunting." She watched as the trio shared a look at that.

"Sinister always has someone wit' him t' do his dirty work. Who is it, Arc?" Gambit pressed.

"I don't know," she replied. Wolverine raised his claws as if to strike, and she lifted her arms  
instinctively to deflect the blow. "Wait!" she shouted. "I don't know for sure, but it may be  
someone new."

"Who?"

"We broke Scalphunter out of prison a few months back and there was this woman there. A pyrokinetic. Sinister wanted her, so we helped her escape, too. She spent a couple of days here, then she left with Sinister one day and didn't come back."

"Keep going," Rogue urged.

"There's nothing else to tell. Sinister would leave every couple of weeks for a few days then come back again. But she never came back with him."

"What's her story?" Wolverine asked.

"I don't know. Killed a bunch of people in a hospital a few years back, apparently including her own kid. She can't control her power, nearly burned this place down three times in the short time she was here." She felt some of the warmth dissipate and knew the Cajun was drawing some of the charge back into himself. He was apparently satisfied with her answers.

"What's her name?"

"He calls her Flare."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

...The blaze assaulted her senses. She gagged on the acrid smoke as the smell of charred flesh assailed her nostrils, scorching the delicate lining of her nose, throat and lungs. The agony of her own blistering flesh blinded her, but not enough to shut out the macabre sight of the human torches scrambling to end their misery. But the screams were the worst. She tried desperately to cover her ears against the tortured wails of the dying, but one high-pitched howl rose above the rest. Then she realized it was her own. Josh! She had only wanted to protect her son. He had gotten too close. The thug flailing wildly on the floor must have seen him as an opportunity to escape. He had lunged for him and managed to grasp Josh's pant leg, savagely yanking him to the ground and dragging him into the fray. She panicked...

"Excuse me."

Flare stared at the shelves of peanut butter before her as memories that she had long ago suppressed haunted her mercilessly. On top of that, the unshakeable image of another little boy, unconscious and strapped down in Sinister's lab, merged with the horrible visions until blond hair coalesced with auburn, and the specter of one child faced her.

Accusing her.

As today had worn on, she had tried to keep herself distracted while she waited for Cody to regain consciousness. She had resumed her control exercises with the candles, but even that became futile as tremendous guilt over her small part in Sinister's experiment weighed heavily on her. When he did finally awaken, he was very subdued. He wouldn't look at her nor respond to any of her attempts to draw him out. Oddly enough, she had been even more disturbed by his reticence than his physical condition. He had been so spirited this morning, but now it seemed as if that spirit had been completely crushed. She had finally given up and come to the grocery store more as a temporary escape than to buy food.

"Excuse me."

She was relieved at least that Sinister hadn't asked for the girl yet. When she had taken Cody back to his room, the girl was huddled in the corner on the floor between the wall and the foot of the bed, clutching her stuffed rabbit and sucking her thumb. Her red-rimmed eyes suggested that she had been crying almost the whole time that she had been locked in the room.

The girl had watched her with the wide-eye wariness of cornered prey as she settled Cody on the bed. Taking Cody to Sinister had been relatively effortless. Other than being short-tempered with him, she hadn't really done anything to cause him to fear her. But after a few hours of being locked away alone in a room, the girl was tired and scared enough that she was sure she would have had to drag her away kicking and screaming had Sinister ordered it.

"Ma'am! Excuse me."

Flare shook herself out of her reverie and turned toward the persistent voice. A harried, middle-aged woman watched her expectantly from behind a shopping cart. But, as the woman glimpsed Flare's face, she let out a small gasp, mumbled something that might have been an apology and turned her cart around to rush down the aisle the way she came. Flare self-consciously pulled her hair toward her face and adjusted her ball cap to sit a little lower on her forehead. She threw a jar of peanut butter in her own cart and hurried to finish her shopping. She hated being out in public. These small encounters with people who looked at her as if she were a deformed monster made her feel as if she belonged in some kind of freak show. On top of that, the wig and hat she wore made her so warm that she could feel small rivulets of sweat run down the back of her neck and behind her ears, trapped beneath her plastic mask.

She made a final inventory of the contents of her cart. Milk, bread, cereal, peanut butter, jelly, frozen chicken tenders, soup. It wasn't much, but at least she wouldn't have to resort to feeding the children stale Ding-Dongs from the vending machine for supper.

She headed for the checkout registers and got in line, careful to avoid eye contact with any other customers. While she waited, she amused herself by scanning the headlines of the array of magazines. One in particular caught her attention. A red X in a circle dominated the cover of Time, and various pictures of the X-Men in action were arranged in each of the four wedges made by the X. She passed right over it at first, but at second glance, her eyes became riveted to one of the women on the cover. If the auburn hair with the streak of white wasn't enough of a clue, the woman's face was the very image of the boy's. Sure, Cody's features had the cherubic roundness of a four-year-old, but there was no mistaking the likeness. A chill swept through her as she realized Sinister had kidnapped the children of an X-Man.

"Anything else?" The cashier startled her from her thoughts. Impulsively, she grabbed the magazine and handed it to him.

Later, as she cooked the chicken in the toaster oven and heated soup in the microwave, she perused the magazine more closely. The article was a general profile of the X-Men, touting them as long-underrated superheroes who only recently had earned society's respect due to recent achievements in mutant tolerance. But it was the sidebars in the article that interested her most. The brief insets described each of the X-Men more in depth, covering their lives and work outside of the X-Men. Charles Xavier, founder of the X-Men, had won the Nobel Peace prize last year and was named Time's Man of the Year. Warren Worthington III holds an annual charity auction in support of Children's Hospital. Hank McCoy recently developed an immunization against the Legacy Virus.

Flare slowly shook her head. Cody had said that "Uncle Hank" was his doctor.

As she turned the page, the truth that she was slowly trying to digest came slamming home. A separate article entitled "Family Life in the X-Men" was anchored with two pictures. In one, a little red-haired girl posed in a family portrait with the X-Men Cyclops and Phoenix. In the other, a candid shot taken outdoors, Cody smiled at the camera from within the circle of his mother's arms while his sister laughed from the perch of her father's shoulders. She skimmed the article. Gambit and Rogue--Remy and Tamara LeBeau--were the twin's parents. The article went on to describe the collective family life the children enjoyed. With two parents and umpteen "aunts" and "uncles" sharing the same household, it told of the trials, tribulations and triumphs of raising a family in an oft-dangerous environment. How the teams had been readjusted so that both parents were never on the same mission together except under the most extreme circumstances. Gambit and Phoenix were on one team; Cyclops and Rogue on the other. Flare wondered if it was no coincidence that both the teams were also arranged so that both fathers or both mothers would not be lost to a single mission.

"Now you know why these children are so important to me."

Flare started violently at the voice. Whirling around, she found herself head-to-chin with Sinister, and she stumbled backward reflexively. How had he gotten that close without her hearing him? She fumbled with the magazine nervously, feeling as if she had just gotten caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. She quelled the ridiculous thought and lifted her chin fractionally.

"I didn't hear you."

Sinister quirked an eyebrow. "Obviously." He surveyed the kitchen and turned back to her. "It's nine o'clock. You're just now preparing dinner for the children?"

Flare straightened her shoulders indignantly. "I gave the girl a snack a while ago. The boy has been unconscious all afternoon, or hadn't you realized that your "research" would leave him so?"

Sinister's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she fought the urge to take another step backward. "You try my patience."

She swallowed any further retort and held the magazine up instead in a placating gesture. "No, I don't know why they're so important to you. What do the X-Men have to do with this?"

"Not the X-Men. Just one X-Man." He took the magazine from her and stared thoughtfully at the page she had been reading. "Remy LeBeau has always been an enigma; a genetic gold-mine that I was never able to capitalize on. But when I found out who his parents were..." He trailed off, and Flare thought for a moment that he wouldn't continue. Then his eyes snapped back to hers and he smiled. "Well, he's damaged goods, unable to employ his powers to their full potential. But his children, they are genetic clay. I finally have those genes at my disposal and I will mold them into something far greater than what they were born to be."

"But they're only children," she said incredulously.

"Yes. LeBeau's children. They are also restitution for an unpaid debt. This will hurt him far more than anything else I could have done to him."

"You're a fool," Flare spat out before she thought better of it. Sinister took a menacing step forward as the magazine fluttered to the floor. This time Flare couldn't resist the instinct to retreat, but she found her way barred as she backed into the counter. She stammered hurriedly, "They're the X-Men. Surely, you can't think that they won't find you."

"You need not concern yourself with the X-Men. I will deal with them when the time comes," he ground out. "You are only here for one reason, and that is to see that these children are cared for and kept healthy. They are of no use to me sick or dead."

His casual reference to them being "sick or dead" brought the unwelcome image of Cody as she found him this afternoon, deathly pale and still on the table. But the image blurred, and it became her son on the table...

Flare shook herself and looked away from the piercing red gaze. He must have taken her silence for compliance, because after a moment, he nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave. Shakily, she turned toward the counter, braced her arms against it and bowed her head. "I won't be a part of this any--"

She suddenly found herself in Sinister's grasp as he held her by the neck at eye level, her feet dangling several inches off the ground. She clutched desperately at the hands digging painfully into her throat, but his grip was like a vise. Gasping for air, she turned her attention to the paper bags on the counter. Something that would ignite and burn quickly. Following her gaze and guessing her intent, Sinister threw her violently against the wall. She was amazed that her neck hadn't snapped as her head whipped back from the force. Sinister reclaimed his hold on her, pinning her against the wall. "Do not ever defy me or try to use your powers against me. You will not live to regret it."

He let her go just as suddenly and strode out of the room. Wheezing, Flare slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, gingerly probing the bruises on her throat. She stared numbly at the doorway, willing herself to get up and walk through it. Then, walk out of the building and just keep going. She doubted that Sinister would care enough to come after her. It wasn't direct defiance, after all. And the children? He said he needed them alive. He wouldn't kill them, and the X-Men would surely find them soon enough, before he could do any permanent damage to them. Slowly, she rose, eyeing the doorway as if it might disappear if she looked away. She would go, she would --

"No! No! No!"

The terrified scream was a splash of ice water that washed away her numbness. It was the girl, and by the sound of it, Sinister was planning to use her as his research subject tonight, after all. She rushed out of the kitchen toward the commotion, and stopped short at the sight outside of the twin's room. In his left arm, Sinister held the girl about her waist with her back wedged firmly against his hip. Her nightgown was twisted about her bare legs as she kicked them frantically, and she thrashed her head back and forth, screaming at the top of her lungs. On his right, he held Cody by one arm as that one pummeled his free fist against Sinister's thigh, demanding that he leave his sister alone. The boy seemed to realize the ineffectiveness of his attack though, as he then twisted his head to bite the gloved hand that held him. For a fleeting moment, Flare thought the whole scene quite comical -- the mighty Mr. Sinister foiled by a couple of four-year-olds -- but the incongruous humor fled as she watched Sinister yank his hand back and raise it to strike the child. Spurred into action, Flare charged forward and hauled the boy back into her arms. He continued to struggle, but with both arms wrapped firmly around him, she was able to keep him safely out of Sinister's reach. She met Sinister's eyes, and for a long moment their gazes locked. She wondered if he would consider this defiance and strike her down where she stood. Finally, without a word, he turned, and tightening his grip on the girl, he disappeared down the hallway.

"Renee! Flare, don't let him take her!" Cody cried as he fought to free himself from her arms.

Flare turned him around and knelt down in front of him. She shook him slightly. "Cody, listen! He's not going to hurt her--"

"Yes, he will," he whined plaintively.

"No, he won't. He'll give her a shot and make her go to sleep like you did. She'll be all right, you'll see." Cody emitted a long drawn out, tearless cry that she recognized came both from exhaustion and his weakened condition resulting from the sedatives.

"Come on. I bet you're hungry. Let's go get something to eat."

"No!" he yelled as he stamped his foot.

Taking a deep breath, Flare picked the boy up and headed back to the kitchen. She could feel him shaking in her arms, but he was too exhausted to fight her, and instead, just continued with his low steady keening.

She settled him at the table, and then went to reheat the chicken tenders and soup. Now what? she asked herself irritably. Running away wasn't an option. She couldn't leave the children alone with Sinister. He might want them alive, but she was not sure how long they would remain so if she did leave. If Sinister had followed through and struck Cody with even half as much force as he used to throw her against the wall, she was sure the blow would have killed the child.

As she turned back to the table, she saw Cody slide out of his seat and scamper across the floor where he bent down and picked up the forgotten magazine. She quickly set the food down and grabbed the magazine out of his hands before he had a chance to take a good look at it.

"That's my mommy!"

Flare closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she set the magazine on the counter, beyond his grasp. He jumped up, trying to reach it.

"Cody, don't. Sit down and eat--"

"Give it to me! That's my mommy!" he shouted as he tried to climb up on the counter. She lifted him off of the counter, but he grabbed on to the sink, and she couldn't pull him away. "Give it to me!"

Flare pried his fingers away from the sink and wrestled him back to his seat. A small rational voice inside her told her to let him have the magazine. What did it really matter? It might even help to keep him calm. But she was too mentally and emotionally drained to listen to it. Her recent confrontation with Sinister, the terrified screams of the little girl, Cody's terror at being strapped down in the lab, and reliving the memory of that tragic day four years ago--a memory that she had once forced to the farthest recesses of her mind--it was all too much.

The boy jumped up again and this time managed to catch the corner of the magazine. In a contest of wills that she was determined to win, Flare grabbed it again and the two faced off in a tug-of-war.

It was all too much. .Without a conscious thought on her part, the magazine burst into flames. The fire flared as it always did and engulfed her in a bright flash. She heard the boy scream as he jumped back away from the flames and fell to the floor. When the flash died, she found him sitting on floor, eyes and mouth open wide in shock. Horrified at what she had just done, Flare dropped the burning magazine and hurried to the boy. She seized his hands and turned them over, examining them for burns before moving on to the rest of him. Fortunately, the blaze always backlashed to swallow her up and anything behind her. Except for a few blisters from the burning magazine, the boy was unharmed. She gathered him tightly to her and rocked him back and forth.

"Josh! Omigod! Josh, are you all right?"

She vaguely heard his weak reply. "My name's Cody."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Do you have any sixes?"

Scott made a face and heaved an exaggerated sigh as he handed over two of his cards to his daughter. Rachel giggled at his antics and added the cards with a third to the growing pile of melds in front of her.

"Do you have any kings?" she asked, eyeing him eagerly.

"Nope. Go Fish." He watched as she ritually passed her hand over the "fish pond" between them on the bed as if she could magically divine which card was hers.

Finally, she picked one, smiled gleefully and turned it over for him to see--the king of diamonds.

"I got my wish," she announced as she laid her remaining cards down. "I win again, Daddy."

He chuckled softly as he tallied her win on their score sheet. "Again is right, sweetheart. That makes five games to two." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Has Uncle Remy been teaching you to play cards?"

"Nooo!" Rachel groaned and rolled her eyes in mock exasperation at the suggestion, letting him know just how ridiculous she thought that notion was. It was the same expression she pulled when Logan teasingly referred to little Jeffrey Murdoch as her boyfriend after the first-grader called her on the phone one day. She gathered up the cards. "Another game, Daddy?"

"Sure," he replied as he stifled a yawn and resisted the impulse to check his watch again. Rachel had been with him in the med-lab all day. He was supposed to be keeping her occupied and out of everybody's way as they searched diligently for the twins, but he suspected that Jean's ulterior motive was that Rachel would keep HIM distracted. It was working somewhat, but he couldn't completely dispel his feelings of helplessness and wished he were more active in the search.

The med-lab door hissed open and Scott glanced up to find his wife entering. She looked positively drained as she offered a weak smile by way of greeting. He realized that she had probably been pushing her telepathic abilities to the limits in trying to locate Sinister and the twins. He didn't need to ask to know that she had little success. Her grim smile said it all.

Even so, when Rachel turned to greet her, Jean managed to force a more genuine smile as she came over and perched on the edge of the bed. "What are you two up to?"

"Rachel's beating the pants off me at 'Go Fish.'" Scott answered with a grimace. Silently, he added, _Any word yet?_

Rachel pushed the score sheet into Jean's lap. "I won five games, Mommy!"

"You did? That's great." Jean smiled at Rachel's enthusiasm then met Scott's eyes over her head. _They're on their way back. They should be here in about ten minutes._

_The twins?_

Jean shook her head. Their eyes locked for a long moment before he shifted his gaze back to his daughter. Watching as she carefully shuffled the cards in her small hands, he smiled as she absently stuck her tongue out as she always did when she was in deep concentration. Rachel was the light of his life. He was constantly in awe of her as he watched her grow and equally amazed at how quickly she was doing so. As they spent the day together playing games, reading, coloring or talking gravely about what was happening, he thanked God over and over that Rachel hadn't been with the twins when they were kidnapped. Even as he worried for Cody and Renee and commiserated with Rogue and Remy, he couldn't help his feelings of relief--nor the stabbing guilt that came with those thoughts.

Jean squeezed his hand, and he met her eyes once again. Even though he hadn't articulated the thought, he knew she understood. Moreover, she felt the same way.

She let go of his hand and stood. _Bishop has some minor injuries. Nothing serious, but I want to get Rachel out of here before they get back. _He nodded absently. He knew that she was less concerned about Rachel seeing Bishop's injuries--especially if they were minor--than she was about her hearing the details of the fruitless mission. Rachel was a very perceptive child, and already, Scott could tell that she could sense the bad news as she uncharacteristically didn't even offer a token protest at having to abandon their game. As Jean ushered her out of the room, Scott leaned back and shut his eyes to rest for a few moments while he waited for the team to return.

He opened his eyes with a start a few minutes later to the sounds of a muffled conversation. Sitting up, he spied Hank dressing Bishop's wounds in the next room as the two spoke quietly between themselves, apparently trying not to disturb him. Glancing at his watch, he realized that instead of a few minutes he had actually drifted off to sleep for close to an hour. He briefly contemplated joining the two men to get a detailed account of the mission, but decided that Hank would probably give him the Reader's Digest version of the events and order him back to bed. After a moment's indecision, he slipped on his robe and, taking advantage of Hank's distraction, went to seek out the rest of the team.

"Oh, Fearless?"

Scott halted with one foot out the door and waited for Hank's admonition. When it didn't come, he turned to face him. Hank peered at him from above the rim of his glasses. "One hour. If you're not back here in an hour, I will come and personally escort you back here."

Scott smiled. The way Hank stressed the word "escort" left no doubt in his mind that he would be toted unceremoniously back to bed across Hank's shoulders should he fail to return. It had nearly come to that this morning when Scott had repeatedly ignored Hank's orders to return to bed despite his growing fever. When his light-headedness caused him at one point to pause mid-sentence and stumble to his chair, he was saved from Hank's exasperated--and in his opinion, a little too enthusiastic--attempt to carry him back to the med-lab only by Jean's telekinetic bubble which provided a no less ignominious transport. Remembering the lectures he received from both of them on the way back to bed, he was certain he didn't want to repeat that scene. He nodded. "Thanks, Hank."

He strode down the hallway towards the War Room but paused outside the door as he heard the elevator open behind him. He waited as Ororo and Remy stepped out and headed his way. The Cajun still looked exhausted as Scott knew he must be, but where this morning he seemed defeated and frantic, now his grim expression spoke of fierce determination and anger. He hoped that was an indication that they had found at least some clue on their mission.

"Hank give y' a hall pass, or did y' sneak out?" Remy asked when they reached him.

"I have a one-hour reprieve, but I think Hank is just waiting for me to try and stay longer."

"You should have heard him this morning, Scott. He was complaining that you were a worse patient than Remy ever was," Ororo chided.

"I seriously doubt that," he responded with a glance at the other man. Remy's mouth quirked upward in a half-smile, but his humor didn't reach his eyes.

The three fell silent in the wake of the feeble banter. After an awkward moment, Ororo excused herself and joined the others in the War Room.

Scott regarded Remy more seriously. "What did you find out?" he asked quietly.

Remy snorted and shook his head in disgust. "Well, we found out dat not only are m' chillen in de hands of m' worst nightmare, but he apparen'ly has a homicidal pyrokinetic workin' for him, who by de way, can' control her powers." He stopped, cast an apologetic glance at Scott then turned his attention to the War Room. Scott followed his gaze until he found Rogue in a corner, hugging herself tightly as she watched the others. Remy leaned a shoulder against the wall and continued, "Arc said dis woman might be workin' wit' him. Said her name was Flare and dat she killed some people in a hospital a few years ago." He nodded toward the room. "Dey're tryin' to dig up some info on her now."

Scott watched the bustling activity in the room for a moment.

"How's Rogue holding up?"

Remy opened his mouth to reply, but ended up just shaking his head with a small shrug.

"Jean said that she's blaming herself," Scott continued in the ensuing silence.

"Yeah." It was said with a long drawn out sigh. "She figures it's all her fault because she was wearin' de inhibitor at de time. Says she ain' ever wearin' it again. Won' e'en let me take some of de blame for not bein' dere at de time. Says dat was her fault, too."

Remy rolled his eyes slightly, but Scott recognized the worry in his voice.

"I'm...sorry," Scott started but found himself faltering. Remy looked at him curiously. He struggled to continue. "I'm sorry we weren't there. Maybe if we were, he wouldn't have--"

Remy held up a hand to forestall him. "Don', mon ami. We have enough guilt t' deal wit' as it is. B'sides, Sinister jus' might have gotten Rachel, too, non?" Scott looked away briefly as Remy hit the matter that had been bothering him all day squarely on the head.

"How are you doing?" he finally asked.

Remy shrugged again. "I don' know." Scott didn't need an empath to sense the fear and frustration beneath the barely restrained anger. He thought that it was all the answer that he was going to get before Remy pushed himself away from the wall and turned to face him. His eyes blazed. "I'm worried sick for Cody and Renee. If anyt'ing happens to dem, I'll never f'give m'self. But, I am so...furious...dat Sinister would do dis. I have never hated anybody or anyt'ing wit' all my bein' as I do him. Y' wan' t' know what I keep t'inking? I keep t'inking t' myself dat when I'm gone," -- a flicker of pain crossed his features -- "everyt'ing dat he's ever done t' me, everyt'ing dat I ever did b'cause of him, will be gone, too. Dat's what's keepin' me goin'." An look of incredulity replaced the pain as Remy laughed bitterly, almost hysterically. "Isn't dat de ultimate revenge?"

Scott didn't know what to say as he stood transfixed by the other man's piercing gaze and teeming fury. He never imagined that Remy would be thinking along these lines. The inevitable paradox collapse was two years away. By unspoken agreement, it was a subject that they rarely talked about. When they did, it was usually to discuss the children's future, just in case the paradox did not collapse completely. As such, they always talked about it with the detached practicality people use when discussing their wills. Watching him now, Scott realized that even though Remy had come to terms with it long ago, it was a pain that would never leave him altogether.

"Found her!" Both men jerked their attention back to the War Room at Bobby's announcement. The words were a bucket of ice water that shocked Remy out of his furor. He looked back at Scott in a moment of inaction, then almost visibly shaking himself, he dashed into the room, and Scott rushed after him.

Rogue was already on top of Bobby, frenetically scanning the monitor he was studying over his shoulder. "Where is she? Are mah babies with her?" she asked excitedly as Remy fell in behind her.

Bobby flushed as he stuttered an apology. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." He looked desperately at Ororo then Scott for some help. "I just meant...I found some information on her in the database." Rogue pushed away from him in frustration. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Remy dropped a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, mon ami," he said quietly.

Bobby looked around the room sheepishly. Scott nodded toward him. "What did you find?"

With one last apologetic look at Rogue, Bobby regained his composure. "Her name's Cheryl Warner. Single mom, mother of two. Doesn't look like she ever had so much as a traffic violation, but Arclight was right. On April 23, four years ago, she apparently started a fire in the emergency room at Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh, killing 28 people. Says here that she was there with her son after he fell during recess at school. According to her defense, the kid was attacked by a thug that the police had brought into the ER and were trying to restrain. She panicked, and the place burst into flames."

"What happened t' de boy? Did he die like Arc said?" Remy peered at the monitor over Bobby's shoulder.

"Yeah. Joshua Warner. They found him underneath his mother. She managed to protect him from burning to death in the fire; although, she was badly burned herself. But it wasn't enough. He died two days later. Apparently, it pushed her over the edge. Attempted suicide a couple of times, started a couple of other fires when they took her inhibitor off to treat her injuries. Defense tried to go for an insanity plea, but the jury found her guilty of manslaughter. She was serving her sentence at West Penn Mutant Penitentiary until she disappeared with several other prisoners after a staged riot about three months ago."

"Dat's when de Marauder's broke Scalphunter out," Remy confirmed.

"What would Sinister want with the likes of her?" Bobby asked. "She doesn't sound like Marauder material."

"Non. She's exactly de type Sinister would wan' t' exploit. Sick over what she done, prob'ly relivin' it ev'ry moment of ev'ry day dat she was in dere, wishin' she were dead instead." Remy's eyes focused on something faraway that Scott knew nobody else could see. He was reminded of how Remy had first met up with Sinister and knew that he could very well be talking about himself. The Cajun's gaze sharpened again as he glanced around the room. "Sinister can make y' t'ink he's y' best friend when y' t'ink y' not worth havin' any."

Rogue moved forward again, insinuating herself between Remy and Bobby to view the monitor. "You said that she had two kids. What happened ta the other one?"

Bobby scrolled through the articles that he had found. "Michael, age 8 at the time. He was placed in a foster home. Doesn't give too much information on that. Her attorney and psychiatrists tried to arrange visitation, but she was pretty unstable. When she saw him, she believed he was Joshua. Wouldn't recognize him as her older son at all. They finally cut off visitation because it was too stressful on the boy."

Remy straightened and sighed wearily. "Okay, so we're not dealing wit' a homicidal maniac. Dat's good, but where does dis lead us? We still don' know where she is."

"Actually, we're much closer," Scott announced. Everyone turned questioning eyes on him. "If she was in prison then they'll have her psi-pattern on file. One of the forgotten leftovers of Operation: Wideawake. Mutants' psi-patterns were filed so the

sentinels could recognize us. Of course, civilian files have long since been destroyed under the Privacy Act, but prisons continued its use to keep track of their inmates. It's a rather futile effort because their psi-scanning equipment doesn't have the range to scan more than a 100-mile radius, and they're too mired in bureaucracy to cooperate on a nationwide network. We just need to get her prison file."

"Won't do us much good if Sinister's using psi-dampeners," Logan argued.

"Maybe not. But right now, it's the best lead we've got."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rain splattered across the windshield in crystalline drops, twinkling brilliantly under the passing streetlights before yielding temporarily to a noisy swipe of the windshield wipers. The streetlights did little to illuminate the dismal night. The highway's painted yellow lines were invisible through the inky wetness, and only the reflectors embedded in the pavement provided any demarcation of lanes as they caught the beams of the headlights. The whine of the wipers vied with the rhythmic tha-thump of the tires as they rolled over the seams in the concrete.

It was a hypnotic cadence, and Flare found herself blinking unnaturally against the heaviness in her eyelids. The taillights of a truck several car-lengths in front of her blurred together. She squeezed her eyes shut then forced them wide open to bring the lights into sharp focus once again. Suddenly, a shadow separated itself from the darkness and darted across the highway in front of her. Flare braked hard in surprise and felt the tires skim across the rain-slicked surface into the on-coming lane. Jerking the steering wheel to the right, she overcompensated, and the car skidded to a noisy stop on the gravel-covered shoulder.

Icy currents of adrenaline coursed through her as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel and forced herself to take deep, even breaths in an effort to steady her thudding heart. A sleepy protest sounded from the back seat, drawing her attention to the bundle of blankets there. She stretched a hand over her seat, not quite able to reach. "Shhh," she murmured with more calm than she felt. "It's all right. We're okay. Go back to sleep."

She turned back to stare out the windshield with renewed alertness, feeling as if she had just woken from a trance. As she studied her surroundings, she found she could barely remember how she had gotten this far. A small shiver started deep in her chest and gradually extended outward until her whole body was trembling as awareness settled in on her. She raised a shaky hand to her mouth. Oh Lord, what in the world have I done?

Sinister would kill her. Of that, she had no doubt. What had she been thinking? She snorted derisively. You idiot. Of course, you didn't think at all. She had merely reacted. She had to get them away from that place. It was her one consuming thought as she had gathered his precious "merchandise" and literally walked out the door.

Her daring escape had been surprisingly easy. Once through the front door, she had quickly made her way back to the supermarket three blocks away. Once there, she had wandered through the nearly deserted parking lot until she had found a car with an apparently forgotten unlocked back door. She had never stolen a car before, but she had heard enough talk in prison that she knew the mechanics of it. Scalphunter, himself, had hotwired no fewer than three cars during their getaway and subsequent drive out of state. She pried the steering column open with a screwdriver she'd found in the glove compartment then wrenched the rest of it free. Finding the right wires took less than a minute, and she'd almost laughed out loud at the simplicity of the task.

She glanced at the dashboard clock and realized that that had been several hours ago. By now, Sinister would certainly know that they were gone. She really didn't know very much about the man, and she wondered if he had the ability to pinpoint her location right away. Did he already know where she was? What did his "research" involve? Had he somehow tagged the children in anticipation of such a move? She had to believe that he had not, or surely she'd be dead by now.

She needed a plan. She couldn't just drive all night until she ran out of gas, which, she noticed, she was very close to already. She had to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible, but to do that she needed more than the seven dollars she had on her and the ashtray full of change she found in the car.

She eyed the neon sign a few hundred yards in front of her hopefully. Pulling the car back onto the highway, she drove toward the sign and pulled into a crowded parking lot. Muted music resonated from the building. Apparently, it was some sort of dance club, and by the looks of the parking lot, a very popular one at that.

She parked the car at the end of the lot closest to the highway but left it running to ward off the chill of the rainy night. Leaning over the back seat, she tucked the blanket back in where it had fallen to the floor of the car and paused to stroke the little tuft of hair that peeked out from under it. The sleepy sigh that resulted from the caress fortified her resolve, and she got out of the car. Time to put to use some of the things that she had picked up from her time at West Penn.

She hit pay dirt. Well, in her limited thieving education which consisted of trying to ignore her cellmate's constant prattle about fraud, she considered it a windfall. She returned to the car with her booty, all of which she obtained from women's purses or wallets tucked away under a seat or in a trunk, supposedly ingeniously hidden away from would-be thieves. Flare scoffed at the thought, then berated herself. Hadn't she done the exact same thing on numerous occasions? She pushed the thought aside as she organized her takings. A credit card, two blank checks and two blank deposit slips.

She hadn't taken any cash or anything that would be immediately missed and reported stolen. The credit card, a corporate American Express card, she had found in the back of one woman's wallet. Tucked away as it was, the card was probably only used for business trips and expenses. The driver's license identified the woman as a local, so she most likely was not on such a trip now. Flare would probably be safe using the credit card for at least a few days before it was missed.

As for the rest of her loot, she had taken a blank check and deposit slip from the back of two different checkbooks, careful to make sure that they weren't drawn on the same bank. She made one of the checks out to Melissa Butler for three hundred dollars and filled in the deposit slip from Butler's account for the three hundred minus seventy-five dollars cash back. Then she took the blank check from Butler's check book and made it out to the first woman, Alexandra Duvall, for the same amount. She would deposit that check in Duvall's account minus another seventy-five dollars. Then, in the morning, she would deposit the checks from the drive-thru lane of the appropriate bank. By keeping the cash-back amount under a hundred dollars and much less than the amount of the check she was depositing, she would minimize her chances of being asked for identification. And, unless one of the checks bounced, neither woman should notice the transactions until they either received their bank statements or reached the end of their checkbook and discovered the missing check. Each of the women would be out seventy-five dollars, and Flare would pocket a hundred and fifty.

Boisterous laughter alerted her to a small group of people leaving the club. They took no notice of her as they piled into a car closer to the building, but Flare knew it was time to move on. It was still several hours before any of the banks would open in the morning. There were a few more things she needed to take care of, and then she would find some out of the way place to park the car and doze for a few hours.

She turned once again toward the back seat and pulled the blanket away from the face of the solitary figure that slept there. She stroked his face soothingly as she recalled how he had cried himself to sleep in her arms earlier that night.

"Don't worry, Josh," she whispered prayerfully. "I'm going to keep you safe. No one is ever going to hurt you again."

Sinister surveyed the damage dispassionately as he stepped slowly through the kitchen. Black char marks decorated the walls and appliances where the flames had licked at their surfaces. Spilled soup pooled on the counter, peppered with the burnt ash of the paper bags that had been there previously. On the floor, the charred magazine bizarrely held its shape where it lay forgotten. He nudged it with the toe of his boot and stared thoughtfully as a piece of it disintegrated under his prodding.

So, Flare had run away. That certainly hadn't been part of his plan, but Sinister was a master of the contingency. The children had been the gold mine that he had anticipated. He could always get the boy, later. He had incredible results from his first round of tests with both children. Now, it was time to ensure that he didn't lose what he already had.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Josh, sit down and eat," Flare repeated for the third time. The four-year-old was draped across the back of his seat, watching the crying baby and fidgeting toddler several booths behind theirs.

He did as he was told, reluctantly turning and picking up his fork once again. Sparing her a grudging look, he merely pushed the pieces of pancake around his plate. "That's not my name," he complained. "Why do you keep calling me that?" Flare stared at him blankly for several moments while the question tumbled through her head. Why? Why?

The boy boldly met her eyes, and she was startled by how piercingly direct and accusing his gaze was. His eyes were so clear, so green. Green. Not blue. Not Josh. She blinked then broke away from the questioning gaze.

Nervously, she glanced around the fast-food restaurant. The activity was starting to pick up as morning commuters and students from the high school across the street stopped in for an on-the-go breakfast. However, no one paid much attention to the two of them where they occupied a corner booth. Still, she adjusted her ball cap so that it sat a little lower on her forehead. She briefly wished that she'd had the presence of mind to grab her wig before she made her daring escape last night. She silently scoffed at the thought. She wished that she'd had the presence of mind to do a great many things differently last night. But she was too far into it to turn back now.

She turned back to the boy--Cody, she told herself firmly. He looked almost lost in an oversized Jacksonville Jaguars sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled back several times to keep them from falling over his hands. The sweatshirt, as well as the rest of the clothes he wore, was courtesy of a pre-dawn raid of a Good Will depository she had found. In addition to his clothing, she had managed to find a ball cap and another sweatshirt for herself. It wasn't so much a disguise than an attempt to make herself and her clothing a little less conspicuous.

She took a deep breath and leaned forward as if to share a secret with him. "It's just pretend," she told him in a conspiratorial voice. "In case Mr. Essex sends somebody to look for us, we'll just pretend we're different people if anybody asks us. So, let's pretend that your name is Josh."

Mimicking her, Cody leaned halfway across the table on his elbows. Their heads were mere inches apart, and she forced herself not to smile as he seemed eager to participate in the conspiracy. He whispered, "What's your name?"

Flare's breath caught, and she knew that she had to proceed cautiously. She pursed her lips and made a show of thinking carefully. "Well," she drawled out slowly, "Maybe we should pretend that I'm your mommy?"

Flare held her breath as he seemed to consider that. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Okay, but..." Then came the question she had been avoiding answering all morning. "What about Renee?"

She sat back in her seat with a sigh. She didn't know what to tell him. When she had awoken this morning in the car, everything had seemed so much clearer to her than in the previous hours. She realized that she had acted irrationally and probably put them both in far more danger than they already had been. Then she remembered the girl and immediately felt sick that she had left without even a thought for her welfare. The girl's tear-streaked face and hysterical wailing loomed heavily in her mind, and Flare had flung open the car door and vomited from the realization of what she had done.

There was no way that she could go back for her now. Even if she weren't already hours away, going back would surely mean her death. That might serve some noble purpose if her death meant seeing the children to safety, but it wouldn't. Sinister would kill her and then both of the children would be his again. She had to hope that the X-Men would find her soon.

But that wouldn't wash with Cody. The boy was fiercely protective of his twin, and she had been unable to come up with any response that would satisfy him. She found it hard to meet his intense stare. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep lying to someone that put so much undeserved trust in her.

Nonetheless, she cleared her throat. "Well, since I couldn't take her with us because Mr. Essex was with her, I called the police while you were sleeping. They were going to go right over and get her."

"Will the police put him in jail?" he asked earnestly.

"Sure they will," she assured him. Yeah, right, she thought ruefully. Mr. Sinister, you have the right to remain silent...Should have said the Avengers or the Fantastic Four. Or... Flare's mind started working frantically. Why not? She could call the X-Men and tell them where Sinister was hiding. Did she have the guts to do it?

"Then why do we have to hide from him?" The question startled her from her thoughts. She bit back an astonished laugh. This kid was too smart for his own age.

"In case he gets away when they find Renee," she answered quickly. She forestalled his next questions as she rushed on, "Josh, just trust me." She nearly choked over the words as she said them. She'd done nothing but lie to him so far. But, she allowed a smile when he didn't protest her calling him by his "codename".

She continued thoughtfully. "Listen, why don't we call your home and let someone know that you are all right? Can we call your Uncle Hank?"

She felt her chest tighten as his eyes lit up and he immediately jumped out of his seat. "Yeah! Maybe Mama and Daddy are home now. Can we call now? Can we?"

Flare fought to stay collected as her pulse started racing. This had to be done very carefully.

She rose and tentatively held out her hand to the boy. He grasped it eagerly, and her heart swelled at the contact. Bolstering her resolve, she led him back to the payphone near the restrooms.

She lifted the receiver and asked, "Do you know your phone number?"

He recited it proudly as he danced around her excitedly.

She deliberately misdialed the last digit.

She closed her eyes as she listened to the tone and recorded message that informed her that the number she dialed was no longer in service. Beside her, Cody tugged at her shirt and she tried unsuccessfully to shut out his pleas of "I wanna talk!"

After a few moments, she replaced the receiver. "Sorry, honey, there's no answer." His face fell, and she knelt in front of him. She cupped his chin lightly to get him to look at her. "We'll try again later, okay?" What was one more lie?

"Okay," he mumbled through his disappointment.

"Listen, Josh, we need to get going, okay? Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

He merely nodded as she continued, "Can you be a big boy and go in by yourself? Or, do you want me to go with you?"

"I can go myself," he told her. It was the answer she counted on.

"Okay, I'll wait right here outside the door." She watched him go in, the disappointment etched in his every movement. "Be sure to wash your hands," she called after him.

She hated herself for getting his hopes up like that, then dashing them so cruelly. But she couldn't afford to let him talk to them. Or to let the X-Men know that he was with her. Josh had been given back to her. She had no intention of giving him back.

She reached for the phone a second time and dialed the correct number.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The mansion was oppressively silent as Ororo made her way to the kitchen the next morning. The X-Men lived in one section of the mansion. The rest of the mansion was used for housing the other X-Teams which would visit and for classrooms. Dormitories had been constructed on the grounds for the students as well as other facilities needed to serve the mutant community at Xavier's.

Though Ororo didn't know how the students were reacting, (she had missed teaching her history classes since the kidnaping,) the mansion reminded her grimly of a funeral home. She knew that most of the other X-Men were milling about, but they paid their respects to the gravity of the situation by speaking in hushed tones and making themselves as unobtrusive as possible with a whispered conversation here or a sympathetic glance there. Even the grandfather clock seemed to chime solemnly as it marked another hour that the twins had been missing.

As she entered the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight that greeted her. Dressed in a bathrobe and slippers, Rogue stood in front of the counter, a knife in one hand poised above a loaf of bread on the cutting board in front of her. It was an all-too familiar scene, one that Ororo had encountered on countless mornings. But this morning, it seemed so out of place. Cody and Renee should have been chattering away at the table. Morning cartoons should have been blaring from TV in the rec room. But, as if Rogue couldn't fathom starting her morning any other way, she was there making breakfast, in spite of the mocking silence of the house around her.

As Ororo watched, however, Rogue stood stock-still, staring blindly at the knife she held motionless above the bread. "Rogue?" Ororo queried softly.

As if in a trance, Rogue remained still and didn't acknowledge her. Ororo approached her cautiously. When she reached her side, she laid a hand gently on the other woman's shoulder and repeated her name. Startled by the sudden contact, Rogue spun around and green eyes snapped to hers in surprise.

"Ah..Ah'm sorry, 'Ro. Ah didn't see you there," Rogue apologized wearily. She turned the knife over in her hand, regarding it curiously. Confusion briefly marred her expression, then with a small shake of her head, she set the knife on the cutting board. She glanced around the kitchen in somewhat of a daze, as if she didn't know what to do with herself.

Ororo reached for the knife. "Here, let me make you some toast," she offered.

Rogue shook her head slightly. "No, thanks, sugah. Ah'm not hungry." Sighing, she took a seat at the table.

Ororo proceeded to slice the bread anyway, with the small hope that Rogue would change her mind. She then filled the tea kettle with water, set it on the stove and placed tea bags into two separate cups. Finally, she took a seat across from Rogue.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked as she studied Rogue's face intently. The dark circles and the wan complexion told her she probably hadn't.

"A little," Rogue answered to the contrary, absently combing her fingers through her hair. Her focus drifted faraway as she whispered, "Almost wish Ah hadn't, though."

"Bad dreams?"

Rogue nodded and Ororo could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes, but they didn't spill over. She reached across the table and laid her hand on Rogue's sleeve. "Want to talk about it?"

Rogue took a deep breath and brushed impatiently at the wetness in her eyes. Finally, she spoke. "At the park the other day, there was this haunted mansion ride. More silly than scary, really. But while you wait in line there's all this howling and moaning and all these Disney folks standing around dressed like something out of the Addams' Family. Renee got nervous about it, then Cody started teasing her, so she decided she didn't want to go on. So, Renee and I waited while Remy took Cody on it. Went and shared an ice cream, in fact." A ghost of a smile touched her lips at the memory.

The smile faded as she went on. "Ah was dreaming about that. Only in my dream, Ah talked Renee into going on the ride, too. She didn't want to, but Ah told her that I'd be with her the whole time. We got in some kind of car that went from room to room. It was dark and there were ghosts and things. Renee started crying that she didn't like it, so Ah tried stopping the car but Ah was strapped in and couldn't get out. She kept cryin' 'Mama, make it stop!'" Rogue chewed on her lip for a moment as a tear escaped unnoticed.

"Ah tried calling out to Remy to help us, so Ah could get her off the ride, but he and Cody were in the car ahead of ours and it kept disappearin' just around the next corner. Then the ride stopped and this guy shows up and says that he'll take Renee off. He starts walking away with her and she's still crying, trying to reach for me. Ah yell for him to wait for me, but Ah couldn't get mah seatbelt off. Ah kept trying and trying." She tugged at her robe as if it were the

offending belt as her eyes remained fixed on the scene from her dream.

"The guy turned around and Ah realized then that it was Sinister." She snorted. "He was dressed like one of them Disney folks--even had a nice little name tag that said Mr. Sinister. It was so...ridiculous. But, so terrifying. Then he tells me that I have to keep mah hands and feet inside the car until the end of the ride." She choked back a bitter laugh at the memory.

"The ride started up again, and Ah still couldn't get out of the car. Sinister kept taking Renee through this door then that." She searched Ororo's eyes. "Y'know, kind of like those scenes in old comedies where people go in one door and come out another on the opposite side of the hallway only ta enter another?" Ororo only nodded, unwilling to interrupt as the words tumbled forth. "The car kept going though and Ah couldn't keep up with them. Then, the rooms started ta change and they became labs. Instead of ghosts and goblins, there were people strapped down on tables bein' experimented on or locked in cages..." She trailed off as she drew a trembling lip between her teeth.

Ororo moved silently from across the table to the seat next to her, anticipating the collapse that Rogue seemed perilously close to. Rogue edged slightly away, though, as if steeling herself. She didn't want to give into the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. "Ah woke up then. And as Ah realized that it was a dream, Ah started thinking about how ridiculously out of place Sinister seemed." She laughed at the image, but the laughter bordered on hysteria. "Ah was so relieved that it was just a dream, that Ah convinced mahself that it was all just a dream. Ah even came down here and started making breakfast before Ah realized..." Her voice broke off and she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth.

Somehow, Ororo knew, that was the last straw. It wasn't the dream that upset her so much as the waking-it was the false relief, the illusion of normalcy that fooled her into her daily routine. Placing an arm around her shoulder, Ororo tried to draw her into her

arms and comfort her.

"Please don't," Rogue whispered raggedly as she flinched away from the contact. The distraught plea broke Ororo's heart, but she knew that Rogue was fighting to maintain her tenuous hold on her composure.

Suddenly, Rogue pushed out of her seat with a vehemence that sent the chair skidding along the floor to hit the wall behind her. She paced agitatedly across the kitchen, then to the doorway where Ororo thought for a fleeting moment that she might fly off. But then she strode back to the counter where Ororo had first found her. Picking up the knife, she started hacking through the bread with exaggerated effort. Ororo could see her shoulders shake with the ragged breaths she took trying to harness her grief. Heedless of her strength, Rogue sawed through the

cutting board and scored the counter before the knife broke in her grip and the blade clattered across the counter. She stared at the handle in her hand in disgust for a bare moment before she flung it away with a backhand motion that sent it as well as the cutting board, bread and all, flying across the room.

She whirled around, and Ororo watched the anger and frustration on her face war with distress and hysteria. Rising cautiously, Ororo moved towards her.

"Ah jus'..." Rogue gulped against the flood of emotion that threatened to engulf her. "Ah just want mah babies back," she cried after a moment as she lost the battle against her tears. Rogue's eyes pleaded with Ororo's as if Ororo had the sole power to return them to her. Ororo blinked back her own tears at the other woman's grief and her own feelings of utter helplessness.

"We'll find them, Rogue," Ororo said, desperate to offer her what little comfort she could. She reached out to her once again, and this time Rogue allowed herself to be enfolded in Ororo's embrace.

"What if...What if we don't...or they..." She curled her fists into Ororo's robe and buried her face in her shoulder. "What if they..." She broke down and Ororo held onto her as sobs wracked her body.

Ororo shushed her. "Don't think that. You can't give up hope, child. Without hope there's nothing. We'll find them, I promise," she murmured the oath that she knew she had no right to give.

Ororo stroked Rogue's hair and back, whispering reassurances as the younger woman wept brokenly against her shoulder. After a few moments, her sobs dissipated to quiet sniffles, but she made no move to leave the solace of her arms. Ororo was content to hold her and let her draw whatever strength she could find from her embrace.

The phone rang suddenly followed immediately by the shrill whistle of the tea kettle, and the sudden cacophony broke the lull. Rogue started at their intrusion, and Ororo reluctantly let go as she withdrew from her. Rogue took a steadying breath as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. Ororo turned her attention to tea kettle to offer her a private moment to compose herself. Out in the hallway, she could hear Remy answer the phone on

the third ring with a tired "'Allo." She briefly wondered where he had been during Rogue's nightmare, then pushed the thought away guiltily. It was unfair to her friend to believe even briefly that he was not as distraught as Rogue.

When she turned back, Rogue's tears were gone and she smiled weakly as she took the cup that Ororo held out to her.

"Thanks, sugah."

Ororo merely nodded in understanding. She knew that Rogue wasn't thanking her for the tea.

"Who is dis?" The impatient question filtered in from the hallway, as Ororo and Rogue resumed their places at the table.

"Wait! Don' hang up!" The two women hesitated as they heard Remy's rising voice. Their interest piqued, they peered at each other in silence as they listened intently.

"Flare? Is dat you? Don' hang up!" Rogue's eyes widened in surprise for a split second before she scrambled for the door with Ororo on her heels. As they reached him, Remy was waving the phone in frustration while muttering a stream of obscenities in French. Logan and Hank were just converging in the small hallway as well, obviously having heard the short exchange.

"Was it her? What'd she say?" Rogue grabbed onto her husband's arm desperately, pleading for an answer.

"She hung up, but it had t' be." His expression turned to something akin to awe. "She said dat

Sinister's in Tampa."

Flare slammed down the receiver in horror, her heart hammering in her ribcage. They knew who she was! She had been brief. Told the man that answered the phone that Sinister was in Tampa. Even gave him the address of the clinic. She meant to hang up right then, but she hesitated a moment too long when he begged her not to hang up. Then he called her by name. No, not her name. Sinister's name for her. How could he have known?

"I'm ready." She jumped as the men's room door slammed shut, punctuating the announcement. The boy stood with slightly damp hands held in front of him, twin wet spots on his thighs where he had evidently dried his hands on his pants.

Just his appearance had a calming effect on her as she gave in to the smile that twitched her lips. She held out her hand.

"Okay, Josh, let's go."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The call from Flare had galvanized the Mansion. Since word had spread through the other X-Teams of the kidnaping, every mutant from any X-Team who could arrive, had arrived the previous day, just to be on hand if needed. Everyone was up and heading to the War Room within minutes. Remy and Rogue weren't the only ones grateful for the assist. The various X-Teams had worked together for years. Scott knew that he had far more resources available to him than the day before.

Since the school had advertised that it was a mutant educational institution, a few years previous, there were well over 300 mutant students in residence, not counting staff. Kitty Rasputin and Rahne Sinclair who were both teachers, told Scott that pretty much every student and staff member had offered to help if needed, included the non mutant staff members. At a hurried meeting in the War Room, Scott felt now was the time to take some of them up on their offer.

"Jean," he said, "Have Genghis teleport Jose Lopes down here."

Genghis was a twenty year old student from Kazakhstan. Though 20, he was finishing his senior year in high school. Genghis, or Jing-iss, as he pronounced it, was the strongest teleporter that Scott had ever seen. He had at least ten times the strength of Nightcrawler, minus the sulphur smell. He was also a medium level telepath. When he combined his abilities, he could take an image from another's mind and could teleport to that place. He could, in effect, jump blind.

Jose Lopes was a non-mutant staff member. He taught Spanish and he was from Tampa. After Scott explained where they needed to be, Mr. Lopes was able to envision a dentist's office about two miles from Sinister's hideout.

Normally, the X-Men used the Blackbird as the primary means of transportation to a mission, but Cody and Renee could only have minutes. At the same time, Flare could have been baiting a trap. Scott planned for both contingencies. He had Genghis teleport Wolverine, Wildchild, Cable, Caliban and Nightcrawler to recon Sinister's hideout. Domino, Angel, Jubilee, Dr. Reyes, Sunspot, Rictor and Cannnonball were to take the Blackbird to Tampa as the cavalry, if needed. Scott also had Storm take Iceman, Psylocke, Wolfsbane and Colossus. take the spare jet and go to where Flare had called from and they try and track her down, from there. They would rent a car when they arrived. Synch and Boom Boom would take care of the second jet and keep it in reserve.

There was one last thing that needed to be addressed before the strike team went to Tampa. Scott looked at Gambit and Rogue; at their haggard, but hopeful expressions. Scott asked them in a hard voice. "Can the team count on you?"

"Don't worry mon ami. We team players," said Remy.

"Rogue?" Scott asked, looking her in the eye.

She nodded.

"Gambit, Rogue, Beast, Bishop, Chamber, and Havok will go to Tampa. This could be either a wild goose chase, a diversion or a trap. Everyone else, stay at the Mansion. You might be needed. I will be monitoring things from here. Let's show Sinister that he made the biggest mistake of his life.

"Are you ready Josh?" asked Flare.

"I guess so," answered Cody as he was getting into the car. Flare buckled him into the backseat of the car. She wished she had a car seat for him, but beggars couldn't be choosers. The car she had stolen, just did not have one. Hopefully a cop wouldn't notice.

"Where are we going?" asked Cody

"Oh, I know a nice safe place," she answered. "Have you ever heard of Pittsburgh?

"No," Cody answered.

"Josh, you'll like it. It is a nice city," said Flare. She couldn't believe her luck. When she had gone to the ladies' room, just before coming to the car, she found a purse that someone had left. She quickly emptied it of 116 dollars cash, another credit card along with that woman's driver's licence. She had a thought, if she were asked for ID, she could use one of the three driver's licences she now had and she could say that she hadn't replaced it since her disfigurement. It might work.

As they drove to a convenience store to get a tank of gas, Cody asked, "Can we call the Mansion from Pittsburgh?"

"Of course," Flare promised.

After the assault arrived in Tampa they started towards the clinic. Genghis teleported three motorcycles along with the strike team. Cable telepathically contacted all of them almost as soon as they started towards Sinister's hideout.

_We have a problem_, said Cable. _The building is on fire. There are three police cars in front of the place. We are taking the direct approach. I will be **encouraging** them to help us_.

At the word, fire, Rogue went airborne and was on her way. When the rest of the team got to the building, they could see that it was engulfed. There was no sign of Rogue. It was obvious that she was searching the building. Wildchild, and Caliban were hurrying down the block in the opposite direction.

"Bishop, Beast, Genghis back up Caliban and Wildchild," Havok said as he Gambit and Chamber got off the bikes..

Beast Bishop and Genghis rode to pick up Wildchild and Caliban, the man who was gifted with the ability to track mutants. Everyone hoped that he would be able to track two particular mutants.

While this was going on, Chamber opened his mind. The only people in the building that he could sense were Rogue, Wolverine and Nightcrawler, who were searching it.

Gambit charged a playing card. He wanted to throw it at the burning building, but was afraid that if the kids were behind whatever surface that he threw it at..well he had to hold the card.

Nightcrawler teleported Wolverine out of the building. They were both coughing furiously. Rogue followed a second later, holding something. It was Renee's stuffed bunny. She landed by Gambit.

Rogue wouldn't meet Gambit's eyes. He suddenly felt a swell of rage. He charged the card to its maximum level and hurled it at the wall of his children's former prison as the sirens of the fire department were heard in the background.

Everyone looked at Gambit as he took Rogue in his arms and held her, careful to avoid skin to skin contact. Chamber and Havok joined Cable with the police.

Ramiro Castro was listening to the biggest shine on he had heard in a long time. The people in front of him were obviously mutants. Their leader's metal arm was definitely a giveaway. Add to that, he was telling the police that everything was all right and his colleagues were buying it! That could only mean one thing. Castro reported to his dispatcher, "Code 44." Mutants of unknown capacity send help.

A moment later, the mutant leader looked at him and said, "I wish you hadn't done that."

Castro realized that either the guy knew the police codes or he took the information from one of the other officers' minds. Castro looked at the man and said, "When mutants are using telepathy on police officers at a suspicious fire, what else would I do?"

"Are you a mutant?" the leader asked.

"No, I just happen to be one of those gifted few who are immune to telepathy. Now do you want to tell me what is going on now or wait for SWAT?" Castro asked in his best authoritative voice. He knew that if he went for his sidearm, the mutants would disarm him. He had to stall them until SWAT arrived, if possible.

"He stole mah chillen." said the man who threw the explosive.

"Your children? There are kids in there?" asked Castro as he was reaching for his radio.

"Not anymore, bub," said the normal looking man who had just stopped coughing. "The kids were there, but they have been moved. No one is inside."

Castro took a close look at the man who answered him. There was something familiar about him. "You're Wolverine," he said. "I recognize you from that magazine." Castro looked around. "Is everyone here X-Men?" he asked. "Of course you are. Look," he said to Gambit, "If someone has taken your children, why haven't you contacted the police?"

The mutant, who was it? Havok, answered him. "The man who stole the twins could easily kill a hundred policemen. The police and the FBI would want to control everything and simply put, we have the experience dealing with this man."

Castro felt exasperated. "Look," he said. "I know that the President has provided you with a standing pardon to prevent cease and desist orders that FOH would level against you if they could and I know about all the good you do. You are very talented and capable people, but you can't do it alone. You have to let us help you. You have no choice."

"Thank you for your concern, officer. We really mean that. This is just out of your league. We don't want you hurt," said the leader, the one with the metal arm as the X-Men turned away from him and started towards the Asian kid.

"I meant what I said," Castro continued. If you leave, I will report this to my superiors who will report it to the FBI who will report it to SHIELD, who will be knocking on your door. An Amber Alert is usually very effective in finding children."

"And if de chillen are found by someone from de Friends o' Humanity?" asked Gambit.

"You X-Men are high profile. Any Friends of Humanity member who hurt your child would hurt their cause. Besides, your friend here just said the suspect could kill 100 police officers. I doubt that an FOH member would do any better. How about it?" said Castro.

Everyone was silent for a minute. "Meine Freunde, perhaps they can help. We are so used to fighting our own battles and we forget that there is a bigger world than ourselves. Sometimes, maybe we need to learn to accept help from non-mutants," the blue skinned one said.

A couple of hours later, an Amber Alert was issued for the twins. The Alert showed the picture of the twins on television as well as Sinister and Flare with an extreme warning not to approach. The Feds had a mutant specialist team on the way. Normally the Tampa Police would have tried to control the investigation, but the Chief of Police knew that if he tried it, the X-Men would just disappear, so the X-Men were in the police department and were waiting by the phones.

The Blackbird had arrived, but it was being held in reserve without the police's knowledge. The X-Men wanted to trust the police, but under the circumstances, all the X-Men agreed that what the police didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Jean had yet to sense the kids. According to Cerebro, there were 895 mutant signatures in the Tampa-St. Peterburg Metro Area. Most of them were very low powered, if they were powered at all. Many of them didn't know they qualified as mutants. There almost became one less mutant on that list.

Jean scanned a policeman who was about to take a gentle telepathic look at Gambit. Jean hurriedly warned Chamber who made it perfectly clear to the officer that such an attempt would not be well received.

The only encouraging news was that Caliban said that he could sense a mutant trail. He was definitely sure that Renee was ahead of him. He had a faint sense of Cody which didn't make sense. The four were at a terrible traffic jam, over 100 vehicles. It was some sort of bad accident. They were working their way alongside the vehicles.

As Cody went into the bathroom of a truck stop, he saw an older boy, maybe seven or eight. Cody said, "Hi."

"Hi," the boy said. "Wow, your parents let you come in the bathroom by yourself? I mean," the boy added, "like at the gas station. My mom used to make me go with her into the women's room. I'm too old to do that now," he said proudly.

"What's your name?" asked Cody.

"Dennis. What's yours?" Dennis asked.

Cody hesitated.

"Oh, that don't talk to strangers stuff only means adults," Dennis said with understanding as he flushed the urinal and went to wash his hands. "I'm going to Disney World!" Dennis said excitedly.

"I was just there, the other day," said Cody.

"Sweet! Where are you going now?" Dennis asked.

"Pittsburgh," answered Cody as they left the restroom.

"What's your name," Dennis asked again.

"Josh."


	13. Chapter 13

_**If you have not read Betrayal, this chapter will not make much sense. RL Seward**_

Chapter 13

It was about noon at the Tampa Police station and Remy knew that all was lost. He felt totally helpless. He hadn't felt like this since that tragic day when he was five. He thought about little Remi, safe on Chandillar. Because of Xavier's telepathic probe a few years ago, his earliest memories had been totally refreshed. For a second, he wished that he were still the little boy who never had to fear a monster like Nathan Essex. He knew that the cops were doing their best and the X-Men were doing their best, but there was that nagging voice that said, "Loser, y' cain' beat Sinister."

Rogue had drawn into herself. She was standing at a window with her arms crossed. Remy wished that he could go to her, but he knew his wife well enough to leave her alone for a while. He was lost in his own thoughts, anyway. How many times since that day from his childhood that his dreams were shattered? Too many. His kids were just a year younger that he had been when he saw the X-Men die. Remy had sworn to himself that he would protect Cody and Renee from that and now they were doomed to have the kind of nightmares that he lived through.

Genghis, who had been in steady contact with Chamber, taking the Tampa Police Department location from his mind, suddenly teleported into the lobby and said in an excited, frightened voice, "He spotted us! The others are fighting him now!"

Fear gripped Gambit as he rushed to Genghis with Rogue arriving at the same time. The other X-Men were but a step behind them. "Take us there!" Gambit shouted.

They teleported onto the shoulder of a highway. It was four lanes, each way. Sinister had been caught in the traffic jam. At first Gambit didn't see Sinister because there was utter pandemonium. People were fleeing down the highway, abandoning cars and screaming as they went. Some cars were overturned. An energy weapon discharged. Rogue went airborne as the sound of the weapon was just another reminder to Gambit of that day the X-Men died.

Gambit and the others hurried towards the battle. Everyone fanned out. They approached more carnage. Apparently the battle had moved from the time it took for Genghis to bring them. Gambit saw the body of Caliban. He could also see Beast and Wildchild were down but were both moving. Bishop was wounded but he was on his feet, with his gun pointing at Sinister and Havok had a charge and was looking for a clear shot.

Sinister had Renee wrapped in tentacles around his chest with both of his hands free. "I'm not letting her go and you can't kill me. If you don't want her dead, now is the time to leave. It is such a cliché, but it is so appropriate, don't you think? Oh, if I smell one whiff of sulfur, she dies," he said to Nightcrawler.

Two Tampa policemen had managed to get themselves teleported with the X-Men to the battle. Castro and the telepath both had guns drawn. They knew that yelling "Freeze," at that moment would make them look totally ridiculous. The telepath tried to probe Sinister.

Sinister looked at him for a second and said, "What? The X-Men enlisting the local help? Oh Please!" Sinister launched a telepathic assault on the policeman until Chamber bolstered the policeman's personal shields. Sinister took a swat at Castro, which stopped when he saw that Castro showed no response.

Renee was screaming as Rogue was circling Sinister and her daughter. Sinister was next to an eighteen wheeler carrying gasoline. He was using that as a shield as much as Renee.

Time seemed to slow for Remy. The despair and helplessness felt just like it did when...It took every bit of Remy's self control not to let the hope that he suddenly felt be seen on his face. He knew what to do.

Sinister squeezed and Renee screamed louder. "What's it going to be, X-Men? You know I can't lose. If I have to kill her to escape, I will. I'll track down the boy and I will continue my research."

"Sinister," Gambit shouted. "Let my daughter go you ..!" He said something in Shi'ar. He didn't have to pretend that the fury in his voice was anything but real.

"Oh Gambit, you, to the point of cursing me in other languages. How droll." Sinister's voice became ice. "Now move."

Rogue landed beside Gambit, facing him. Gambit took her in his arms as they started to back away from Sinister. She leaned her head against his chest, her eyes closed.

"This applies to the rest of you X-Men, too. Leave before I..." Sinister stopped mid-sentence. Gambit collapsed as the front half of Sinister's body fell forward. Rogue turned towards Renee and ran to her, dropping the stuffed animal. Nightcrawler teleported to Renee and teleported her out of Sinister's grasp. Sinister's blood was everywhere because the back half of his body was gone. Where it had been was now occupied by a black vortex.

Rogue saw that Nightcrawler had Renee, but she couldn't stop her forward momentum. Her foot hit some of Sinister's blood and she fell into the vortex, which promptly disappeared.

It had been a long drive that day, but Dennis couldn't wait to get into the pool at the motel. They would arrive at Disney World tomorrow and the fun would really begin. In the meantime, there was a perfectly good swimming pool waiting to be used. His older sister and brother were already out there with his dad. His mom had the news on while she was waiting to put sunscreen on Dennis's back. While she was doing that, a news report was on about the battle in Florida and about how one of the two La Beau children had been found. When a picture of Cody was shown, Dennis got excited.

"Mom, Mom, I talked to him today!" said Dennis.

"Who did you talk to today, Dennis?" asked his mother.

"That boy on the TV! Cody Somethin! Only he said his name was Josh. We should call the police: Dennis said emphatically, as he reached for the phone.

His mother intercepted him. "Dennis, how many times have you been disciplined in the last three weeks for making up stories?" she asked.

"But Mom," he whined.

"How many?" she pressed.

"Six or seven, but I'm not.." he said.

"Six or seven. Honey it is okay to want attention. Every child wants attention, but you can't call the police to get it. Now I don't want you calling the police. Is that understood," she said firmly.

"But Mom!" he whined again.

"Yes Mom," she prompted.

Dennis could see in her body language that she wasn't going to listen. "Yes Mom," he said dejectedly.

"I won't call the police," she prompted.

"I won't call the police," he answered.

She gave him a hug. "Now you go and get into the pool. I'll join you as soon as I change clothes," she said.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press. On behalf of the Le Beau family, I would like to thank the Tampa Police Department in their help retrieving little Renee." said Havok to the the press. He looked a bit disheveled. His shirt was torn. The reporters could see the cauterized wound on his shoulder. It was obvious to everyone that he had run a comb through his hair, before the news conference.

"Havok continued, "Members of the X-Men tracked Nathan Essex to the freeway jam. The goal was to keep Essex under surveillance until such time as a rescue could be mounted. Unfortunately, Essex spotted the scouting team and opened fire. This lead to the battle on the freeway. As other members of the X-Men were transported ro the scene, including Renee's parents, Remy and Tamara Le Beau, Essex began to threaten the life of Renee. It was at this point that Mr. Le Beau had to kill Essex. Essex was a murderer many times over. As is law in this country, killing in self defense or the immediate defense of one's child is not considered a crime. Renee is being examined by a family doctor as we speak."

"What kind of weapons were used?" one belligerent reporter said.

"A particular mutant ability that Mr. LeBeau possesses. Alex answered smoothly.

"How about guns?" the reporter countered.

"What about guns The Second Amendment protects one's right to carry firearms," Alex answered

"What was that black disk," asked a second reporter.

"It was a teleportation disk. The reason that Essex died was that Mr. Le Beau opened the disk within Essex's body. Admittedly, it is a graphic way to kill, but Essex was threatening to murder Mr. Le Beau's daughter. What would you do if someone were threatening your daughter's life?" Havok answered smoothly. Alex understood that the public relations interview he was doing now would save hundreds of battles in the future. He needed to do spin control. These street battles always improved polls for the Friends of Humanity.

"Has he ever done something like this before?" asked another reporter.

"Accessing the teleportation disk is extremely difficult for Mr. Le Beau. Accessing the disk wiped him out. He has only been able to access it, two or three times in his life. He is still unconscious from the effort."

The second reporter asked, "Where is Mrs. Le Beau?"

Havok was obviously a little uncomfortable. "When Essex fell, Mrs. Le Beau rushed towards Renee, like any mother would. She slipped on Essex's blood and fell into the teleportation disk. We do not know where the other end of the disk was focused. We will have to wait for her to contact us. "

"Where is Renee now?" asked a reporter.

"A teleporter took her home to Salem Center, New York, to The Xavier School for Gifted Students. Her only relatives live there," answered Havok. He continued, "There can be further questions about what happened later. Right now the focus needs to be on getting Cody home."

The interview went for another five minutes. After the battle, Havok had Genghis teleport him to the police lobby. As Genghis went back to the scene of the firefight, Havok went outside of the police station to hold the interview. The X-Men had been on the wrong side of spin control too many times to leave the press to the police. Since he had been on site, he wanted to have the first news reports to give them the best possible coverage. Even wounded, Havok was the best person available for the interview. His blond haired blue eyed good looks went well on tv. Wolverine, Bishop and Cable came off as too militaristic to do interviews and Chamber looked too mutant.

Havok had been amazed that the one reporter had known to ask about the black disk. He didn't like lying, but there was no way that Havok was going to say what that disk really was. He only hoped that Rogue had absorbed Gambit's ability to survive going through the time portal and that she didn't go far, either temporally or geographically.

As a police officer came out to speak to him, Havok said loudly, "Before I speak with the police again, I think that a trip to the Emergency Room would be in order for me. To protect myself from any charge of vigilantism, I wish legal counsel present for any further interviews." Spin Control. Spin Control. Spin Control.

Nightcrawler had teleported Renee to the Blackbird. He went back and got Gambit, Beast and Wildchild. Renee freaked out when she saw Remy unconscious. She wrapped her body around one of his arms and kept screaming, "Daddy."

Beast tried to get her attention. "Renee, Renee honey! Remember what happens to people when they touch your momma when her powers are on? Remember? They go to sleep for a while." Though injured, he tried to sit up. Skin helped him get to a seated position as Cecilia was tending to Wildchild's injuries.

Jubilee followed up. "That's right, sweetie. Your momma borrowed your daddy's powers so he has to sleep for a while." She looked to Beast for confirmation as to that being what really happened. He nodded.

Jubilee continued, "Look at your daddy's chest. It is moving up and down. That means that he is breathing. If you put your ear on the middle of his chest, you can hear his heart beat."

Renee didn't let go of Gambit's arm but her cries subsided as she said between sobs, "You can't hear daddy's heart that way, cuz he's half Shi'ar."

Jubilee said, a little embarrassed, "I have always said that you were a smart girl and here you go, proving me right. Let me look at that cut on your neck Renee."

Fortunately, Warren had the foresight to bring a change of the children's clothes before they left. After she was cleaned up and changed, Renee suddenly asked, "Where's Momma?"

"She went looking for Cody. All of the X-Men are looking for him, now that we found you," Hank McCoy answered.

Renee wanted to say something but she was interrupted by a yawn that she couldn't stifle.

"Renee, why don't you lay next to your daddy and take a nap. By the time you wake up maybe he will be through with his nap," said Jubilee as she gently picked her up and laid her next to her father. She was asleep within a minute.

The X-Men moved to the other end of the Blackbird and Cecilia said, " I don't know if it is the fact that Renee is part Shi'ar or that she is a mutant, but almost anyone else would be dead with a cut like that. That cut is right where the carotid artery would normally be."

Everyone was silent for a moment as they considered that sobering news.

"What does Cyclops want us to do, now?" Cannonball asked.

Domino raised her voice, "How about it Cyclops? Stay here or head for home?"

His voice came through the speaker. "Head for home. Beast and Wildchild might have to give a statement to the Tampa cops later, We can stall them for a while and say that you are recovering from the battle. True enough. Havok, Cable and Bishop are dealing with the authorities. Everyone else from Florida is already back. Nightcrawler can do an emergency teleport if it is necessary. You still good, Nightcrawler?"

"Kein Problem mein Freund," answered Nightcrawler.

"We are on our way," said Domino as she sat in the pilot's seat.

"Any word on Rogue?" asked Beast.

There was silence on the other end of the speaker. "Nothing yet." Cyclops answered.

There was no way that Scott was going back to bed. Things were starting to happen. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't tired, though. He had a cot brought in to the War Room and took a brief nap before Renee had been found. He felt better, but he was still weak.

Storm's team had reported that someone had seen a suspicious person near where Flare had called from that might have been her or it might not have been. They were still looking.

Jean brought Scott a sandwich and some orange juice. Wolverine, Shadowcat and Genghis were with her, each with a plate of food for themselves. The Blackbird was ten minutes out. The returning X-Men had already reported what had happened. Paige Guthrie, who was helping Scott monitor the War Room, took a break and left to get something to eat herself amidst Jean's apology for not bringing her a sandwich. Paige told her not to worry about it as she left.

"Well Cyke, you still look sick," said Wolverine with his usual terse manner.

"Thanks," Scott said dryly.

"Don't mention it. You are planning on having Iceman on hand when we tackle Flare?" asked Wolverine.

"That's why he is with Storm's team right now," Scott answered.

"That brings up a subject that I want to talk about," Jean said. "I don't want us to refer to her as Flare, anymore."

"Why not?" asked Scott.

"Because it is a name that Sinister gave her. We have code names to protect our identities Cheryl Warner is not innocent, but at the same time, we know that she is unstable and she was manipulated into this situation. If we think of her as Flare, then we are subconsciously labeling her to Sinister's standard," she said.

"Jean, I am amazed that after all the battles you have seen, you still have that much compassion towards our enemies. All right, how do you think we should deal with Miss Warner?" asked Scott.

"I think I can help her if I get the chance," said Jean.

"If we can take her alive, you can try," said Scott.

"Something about the battle, I don't understand," Genghis said.

"What don't you understand, kid?" asked Wolverine.

"What did Gambit say in that other language? Why did Rogue suddenly go to Gambit? That made no sense. I thought that Rogue would attack Sinister and try to defeat him that way," Genghis answered.

"Gambit was speaking in Shi'ar. We all learned it when we went to the Shi'ar Empire a few years back. He said, "Have her touch me, I have a plan." Cable passed it on to Rogue and she trusted Gambit. When she touched him, she got not only Gambits powers but access to his memories. His plan worked, too. He couldn't access his time portal, but she could. You saw the results."

"You do understand that what you saw and heard is not to be repeated, even to the other students?" Jean asked.

"How do I keep the telepaths from reading my mind?" he asked.

"I think that I should start working with you now on building up mental shielding," Jean answered. "Emma is taking a turn at Cerebro," she said to Scott.

As they left the room, Wolverine sat dawn as he finished his sandwich. "Who is monitoring the phones?" he asked.

"Monet and Guido are overseeing that. A few of the more discreet kids are helping them. They have been briefed on what we know about Fl-Cheryl Warner," amended Scott.

"I'll go and tell them that we don't want the name Flare used anymore," said Wolverine as he rose from his seat. Looking at Scott's face he said. "We are halfway there. We will find Warner and find out what happened to Cody. If he is alive, we will get him back."


	14. Chapter 14

Dennis had a great time in the pool and had even forgotten about Cody for a while. After his family finished playing in the pool, his sister was taking a shower when he looked at the television in the room and remembered what had happened earlier in the day. He knew that his parents wouldn't believe him, but he knew that he was right! Mom was always talking about why it was not wise to talk to strangers. He knew that being missing was very bad and he knew that he had made up stories, but this time, he was telling the truth!

Dennis knew that if he could sneak out to call the police, they would ask Mom and Dad and then he'd get a spanking and the police wouldn't believe him. As he mulled over the problem, he got an idea. If he could call the X-Men, they might believe him. The article in that magazine said they were in Westchester, New York. Dennis had seen it on the coffee table back before they had left for vacation.

"Dennis, it is your turn to take a shower," his mother said as his sister came out of the bathroom.

"Okay, Mom," Dennis replied and started toward the bathroom.

"Don't forget your pajamas," his mother instructed.

"Oh yeah. Sorry," Dennis answered. As he went to the suitcase, he saw his dad's cell phone on the dresser by the suitcase. He quickly glanced around to make sure no one was looking. As he got his pajamas, he slipped the cell phone into the pile. He hurried into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. He turned on the shower and pulled out the cell phone. Two things were working in Dennis's favor: his father had taught him how to use the cell phone and it was an advanced model with a lot of features, including roaming.

It took him a couple of minutes, but he found the number. As he dialed, his heart was racing. If his parents found out he was doing this, he'd get in so much trouble. He consoled himself with what his minister said about what it meant for children to obey their parents in the Lord. The only thing a parent couldn't tell a kid to do was to sin. He felt sure it would be a sin not to say anything, but that didn't mean he wanted to get punished either.

"Xavier Institute for Higher Learning," a young man's voice said over the phone.

Dennis started to get flustered. "Hi um, is this the place I call to tell somebody where I saw Cody?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, this is the place to call. What is your name?" the voice asked.

"Dennis. What's yours," he replied.

"Josh Foley," the young man said

"That's what he said his name was, but when I saw him on TV they said his name was Cody," Dennis said.

"You saw Cody, but he said his name was Josh? Dennis, would you start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened?" asked Josh.

Dennis told him everything. Josh was very earnest when he said. "On behalf of the Xavier Institute, I want to thank you for the call. If you remember anything else, please call back and ask for me, okay?"

"Will that help you find Cody?" Dennis asked.

"I hope so. It will be on the news when we find him, so you will hear about it. You should go take your shower now and thank you again," said Josh as he hung up. As Dennis put down the cell phone, his mother called from the other side of the door.

"Is your father's cell phone in there?"

Remy opened his eyes slowly. His spatial sense wasn't working at the moment and he couldn't remember what he had been doing. As he slowly turned his head to the right, he saw Jubilee and Renee sitting by his bedside in the medlab of the mansion watching a children's video.

He smiled weakly, "Hey p'tite, what'cha doin?" he said

Renee whipped around in her seat and screamed, "Daddy!" She climbed over the side rails and jumped onto Remy's chest, wrapping her hands around his neck.

Remy gave her a gentle hug and said, "I'm glad to see you too, Renee. Where's...Sinister!" Everything came rushing back. He tried to jerk to a seated position, but the combination of Renee lying on his chest and still being weak from Rogue draining him, he promptly fell back into bed.

Renee started to shiver. Remy realized his mistake and started to soothe his daughter before she started crying. "It's okay ma cherie. You home now. Sinister ain't ever gonna do nothin' bad to you again." He held Renee tightly to his chest.

"Flare took Cody away. Momma went looking for him," Renee said between sobs.

Remy looked over to Jubilee, expectantly.

"We have a solid lead. Jean and Storm are leading teams that are following it up," she said as Beast came into the room.

"Ah, it is nice that you are awake," Beast said with forced joviality. "Renee would not leave until you woke up. How are you feeling?"

"Just a little weak Hank," Remy said. He looked over at Jubilee.

"You know what honey," Jubilee said. "I know what would make your daddy to get his strength back faster. Why don't you and I go up to the kitchen and make a sandwich for him and a sandwich for you? Then you two could have your dinner together. How does that sound?"

"Would you like that, Daddy?" Renee asked.

"I'd love dat chere," Remy said smiling. Renee gave him another hug and climbed off the bed and took Jubilee's hand and the two of them started for the door. Renee suddenly stopped and looked back.

"What kind of sandwich do you want, Daddy?" she asked.

Remy thought quickly. "Tuna wit' pickles an' no onions," he answered.

"I like that, too. That's what I want, Aunt Jubilee. Can I have one of those, too?" she asked as they went out of the medlab.

"What happened, Hank?" Remy asked.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Beast asked, knowing that Rogue's power sometimes affected one's short-term memory.

"Genghis teleported us to de traffic jam," Remy answered.

Beast filled him in on everything. When he heard that Rogue went through the time portal, he felt a new wave of despair sweep over him.

"She could be anywhere in time, Hank!" Remy cried.

"No Remy, she had to go into the future, If she went into the past, she would have warned us about this before it would have happened," Hank answered. "Even if she had gone a hundred years in the past she'd have left some kind of note. No, she went into the future."

"If the disk didn' cut her in half," Remy started

"I have little doubt that she is alive, Gambit. When she absorbed your powers, I am sure that she absorbed your immunity to the disk. We have dealt with time travel before. Perhaps Cable, Forge or Bishop will have some ideas on retrieving her. As far as getting Cody back, Jean has an idea about that..."

It was almost seven o'clock that evening when a van carrying the Jean's team of Kitty Rasputin, Paige Guthrie, Cecilia Reyes, Sean Cassidy and Genghis, drove turned onto the block where Michael Baldwin lived. Further information that Bobby had found on Cheryl Warner stated that when she and her husband divorced when Michael was six months old, she had taken her maiden name. A year after the divorce, the ex-husband had been killed in an industrial accident. No information had been found on Josh's father.

Before coming to coming to Pennsylvania, the X-Men researched Michael Baldwin. The kid had lived a rough life over the last four years. He had been in seventeen foster homes. Being the son of a known powered mutant who couldn't control her powers was like a prison sentence for the boy. The Friends of Humanity had posted his name on one of their websites just after his mother had killed the people in the hospital. A judge ordered his name removed, but the damage had been done. As soon as word got around whatever school he was attending, children started avoiding him or cursing him. The parents of the few friends he did start to make wouldn't let their children spend time with him out of fear that Michael would become like his mother. The boy was currently living in a foster home in a suburb of Philadelphia.

This was it. Jean could sense it. Everything made sense. The Warner woman just wanted her life back. That meant that the next logical place that she would go would be to familiar places. The most likely person who could help was Michael Baldwin.

As Sean drove the van down the street at a normal speed, Jean was scanning for FBI or SHIELD agents who might be keeping the boy under surveillance. Though she didn't pick up on anyone telepathically, they had also brought some Shi'ar counter detection equipment which detected no monitoring devices within a block.

After confirming that Michael Baldwin was not being observed, they began to plan how to make the contact. According to the equipment, which included a miniature Cerebro, Michael was a mutant as was another person in the home, the foster mother. There were seven people currently in the house. According to their research, there were five people living in the foster home. Jean sensed that there were five kids in the building. That meant that at least one of the foster kids had guests. At the moment, Jean could sense that the adults and one of the children were in the living room and the others were scattered around the house.

Jean was hesitant to do it, but she probed the people enough to ensure that Michael was there. He was in a back room playing video games with two other kids.

"How do we want to do this?" Paige asked.

"We'll use the polite direct approach," Jean answered. "Kitty and I will knock on the door. Two women won't be perceived as threatening to him"

When the X-Men had time to plan a mission, they came prepared. Preparation sometimes meant the difference between a successful mission and a funeral. Since people generally are receptive to nonthreatening, attractive people, Jean had taken the time to dress for the occasion. She had put on a conservative, nice looking blouse and pair of slacks. The other women were similarly dressed. Sean was wearing a business suit and they had Genghis wearing a nice pair of blue jeans with a Western shirt, tennis shoes and a light brown jacket. Jean wanted Genghis to look as much like a kid as possible, just in case that would appeal to Michael.

Sean pulled in front of the house and the two women got out. Sean pulled out and began to drive around the neighborhood. They did not want to attract attention. They would pick up the women when Jean called and if there was a problem, they would be close enough to assist.

Kitty rang the doorbell. A fifty something Latino man opened the door. "Yes?" he asked.

"My name is Jean Summers and this is Katherine Rasputin. We are from the Xavier Institute for Advanced Learning. We would like to speak with Michael Baldwin, please," Jean said.

The man's face took on a guarded expression. "What about?" he asked.

"His mother," Jean answered. Before he could say no, she added with telepathic force. "I really think that you should let us speak with him".

A somewhat blank look came over his face. "Come in," he said.

_Don't you hate it when you have to play Obi-Wan and the storm troopers?_ Kitty transmitted, knowing that Jean would hear the thought.

_Would you rather I had brought Paige inside with me? _Jean answered slightly annoyed at the timing of the joke.

Pushing the foster father telepathically was a calculated risk. It was unlikely that either Michael or the man's wife were telepaths of any caliber to detect what Jean had done, if they were telepaths at all. Cerebro could only identify people with mutant abilities. The machine could not say what the powers were.

They entered a clean but modest living room. An attractive, middle aged Latina stopped her crocheting An African-American boy of about eight was sitting in the floor. The three of them had been watching a sitcom rerun when the women had rang the doorbell.

"Darius, go tell Michael that he has guests," the man said, still under Jean's influence.

Darius got up and started running across the house, yelling, "Michael! You've got company!" He went in to a room at the end of a hallway. A few seconds later, a very skinny boy, about 5'7" came out of the back room and walked in to the living room.

Jean looked at him and smiled. Boys Michael's age either looked like teenagers or little kids. Obviously, he had just had a growth spurt.

"You want to talk to me?" Michael asked.

Still smiling, Jean introduced themselves. "Michael, my name is Jean Summers and this is Katharine Rasputin. We are from the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Have you heard of it?"

"Ain't that the mutant school?" he asked.

"Yes. We help all kinds of mutants, Michael. Some of the mutants that we help are adults, too. You know that your mother is out of prison, right?" Jean asked.

A flicker of pain crossed his face. "Yeah, I saw the news."

Kitty picked up the conversation. "Michael, there are a few things that you don't know, that weren't on the news," she began

Michael interrupted her, "Look, I know that my mom is a fruitcake okay? I don't know where she is. Can I go now?" He started to leave.

"Did you know that she helped save a four year old little girl's life today?" Kitty responded.

Michael stopped and looked at her.

"It's true," she continued. "That battle in Florida today wouldn't have happened if she hadn't tipped us off. We want to tell you the full story and we want to try and help your mother. You have to admit; there aren't a whole lot of people trying to do that, right now."

He was silent for a few seconds. Jean _encouraged_ the foster parents, saying, "Could we have a few minutes with Michael in private?" They agreed and left the room. Jean knew that they had about five to ten minutes until her telepathic suggestion would begin to wear off.

The three of them sat down, Kitty and Jean on the sofa while Michael sat in an upholstered chair across from them. After an uncomfortable second, since Kitty had gotten the boy's attention, she continued.

"The man who broke your mother out of prison was Nathan Essex. Essex was a master psychologist. He knew what had happened in the fire and he believed that if he could be like some kind of cult leader and could make her totally dependent on him, then she would do anything he wanted her to, no questions asked. He has done this with others," Kitty stopped and took a breath.

Kitty continued, " Essex kidnapped a set of four year old twins, Cody and Renee Le Beau. He wanted your mom to take care of them during the time that he wasn't doing his experiments on them"

"What kind of experiments?" Michael demanded.

"Not what your thinking. Essex wasn't a pedophile, but he had a Frankenstein Complex. He was into genetic engineering. He thought that other mutants were nothing but his raw material to play God with," Jean answered.

"No matter how much control Essex thought that he had over your mother, when she found out what he was doing, she called the X-Men and told him where Essex had Renee. That is how we knew where to find her. Some of the other X-Men went there and fought him and now, Renee is home," Kitty added

"So, where is my mother?" Michael asked.

Kitty exhaled and started to speak again, "As you know, your mother never recovered from the first day that her powers kicked in. She is trying to get her life back. She is trying to get Cody to think that he is Josh. We think she is going to Pittsburgh."

"Oh yeah! That sounds about right! That's all she ever cared about! Josh this! Josh that! I betcha she'd have rather that I had died rather than.." he broke off as he got up and started away from the women.

Kitty was faster. She rose to her feet and intercepted Michael, stepping in front of him before he took three steps.

"It only hurts because you love her and that's totally normal, Michael," she said softly.

She could see that Michael was blinking furiously.

"Michael, I have three children. One thing that I can tell you a parent often does is to get the older children to help with the younger ones. A single parent would be even more likely to put more pressure on the older children. It doesn't mean that I love my younger children more; it is just a matter of getting by. One thing I can tell you about mothers is that we have a strong sense of guilt when we feel that we mess up with our kids. When I think of accidentally killing one of my kids...Michael, she would be just as messed up if it were you who had died," Kitty said with a slight tremor in her voice.

Michael didn't say anything for about thirty seconds. When he regained his composure, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

Kitty led him back to his seat and Jean spoke up again. "Michael, I am a telepath. That means that I can read minds, among other things," she said.

Michael looked at Kitty and interrupted, "What is your mutant power?"

"Watch," she said smiling pushing the annoyance of his interruption to the back of her mind. She got up and phased through a closed door. She walked back into the room, phasing through the door again.

"Sweet!" Michael said, impressed. He looked back at Jean and realizing he had been rude, said, "I'm sorry for interrupting. You were saying?"

Jean smiled at him. "What I would like to do is to look through your memories. I need to see where she liked to take you boys."

He frowned. "I could tell you. Why do you need to read my mind," he asked.

"Two. No, three reasons. One it has been a long time. You might have forgotten something. Your subconscious keeps a perfect record of your memories. Two, I want to help you to remember the good times with your mom that you may have forgotten. People tend to suppress a lot of good memories with bad ones, It doesn't make sense, but it is true," Jean said.

"You are not going to erase my memories, are you?" Michael asked, alarmed.

Jean shook her head vigorously. "Absolutely not. The bad memories are a part of who you are. I would never do that."

"I don't see why you are asking me. Couldn't you make me? Hey watt a minute!" he exclaimed. He suddenly looked towards the kitchen. "You used your telepathy to make my foster parents leave!"

Jean looked down for a second and then looked Michael in the eye. "Yes I did, Michael," she said, simply.

Michael sat back in his chair. "Then why are we having this talk? I can't stop you."

"What I did to your foster parents wasn't painful to them. If I forced my mind into yours, it would be extremely painful to you and forcing you could possibly cause you serious injury. I am not going to harm one innocent boy to save another one," Jean said. Jean left out the fact that she didn't want to risk activating Michael's powers with a forced telepathic probe. If he had his mother's power and the flame blew back on him, he would be just as disfigured. Jean knew that this boy's powers needed to be nurtured in a controlled environment.

"You said there is a third reason?" Michael asked.

"When we said we wanted to help your mother, we weren't just saying what you wanted to hear," Jean said. She then explained her plan.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A couple of kids came into the living room. Jean suggested that they go somewhere more private. She then went in to the kitchen and _asked_ the foster parents for permission to take Michael out for some dinner.

Sean picked the three of them up and drove to a nearby park. By then, it was almost totally dark. There was a street light illuminated a basketball court where some teenage boys were, but otherwise, the park was deserted. Everyone got out of the van except for Jean and Michael.

Michael was nervous. This was the first time he had ever been around mutants, except for his mom. Unlike his mom, none of these people seemed unhinged. They all looked normal, yet they all seemed to take the idea of Mrs. Summers reading his mind as an everyday occurrence. He was still nervous, though.

Jean smiled and took his hand. "Just lay your head against the headrest, close your eyes and relax. You will feel a sudden pressure in your head. Try not to fight it. I will go very slowly, so you can get used to my presence in your mind. We will do this before I start looking at your memories. Okay?" she asked.

"Can I look at some of your memories, too?" Michael said rushed. He backpedaled. "I'm sorry. I know this is important for my mom. I was just a little curious." He finished his apology sounding a little embarrassed.

Jean thought for a second. "Sure, Michael. After we are done I will show you one or two of my memories. I'll show you some of the things that happen at the school. How does that sound?"

"You will? Thanks," he said smiling with a touch of relief in his voice. He sobered. "I guess we should get started, huh?"

She answered gently, "Yes, we should. Like I said, we will do this, slowly. Close your eyes and try to relax."

At first Michael didn't feel anything. Then there was a pressure that was everywhere. It felt suffocating. He started to resist. He heard Jean say, "Relax. The pressure is just your natural defense against telepathy. This is as far as I'm going to go until you get used to it. The pressure will mostly leave by then."

It took Michael about twenty minutes to relax enough to let Jean into his thoughts.

_Are you ready for me to go into your subconscious?_ She asked telepathically.

_I guess so, h_e answered.

When she had looked at Remy's memories, they had started with a sharp break, from the time that he had gone back in time onward. Michael's earliest memories were a little fuzzy at the beginning which was tied in to the ability of a child to comprehend what is being seen. Jean went into the earliest coherent memory and started to watch Michael's life.

_Michael was sitting on Daddy's chest while Daddy was tickling him. Mommy was sitting on the couch with the baby._

_Michael brought in a worm to show to Daddy. Mommy told him to take it outside and to wash his hands. Daddy helped him wash his hands._

_Mommy was giving him a bath when Daddy came in to see how he was doing._

_He was helping Daddy work on the motorcycle. He was Daddy's helper. He held the rag for Daddy to wipe his hands on! He was a big boy now!_

_He woke up from a nap to hear Mommy and Daddy fighting worse than he had ever head them fight "What do you mean, you're married!" "She was in prison, but she is out now," Daddy said. "What about your son, Josh? Or what about Michael? He adores you?" "Sorry babe," he said as he walked out the door. Mommy cried and cried. Michael never saw Daddy again._

_After Daddy left, Michael and Josh went to the babysitter, almost every day. Michael hated it. Some of the older boys were mean to him. He must have been bad if Daddy left and Mommy had to go to work. _

_After work, Mommy took Michael and Josh to the park so Michael and Josh could play in the sandbox. Michael liked that. As they were leaving the park, Michael pointed to a sign and asked, "What's that say, Mommy?" "Nash Park."_

_They had to move to an ugly apartment. Mommy wouldn't say why._

_Mommy wouldn't let the boys play outside of the new apartment. She said it was because of the bad people. _

_Mommy took them to McDonalds. Michael liked to play in the McDonalsds Playroom. Josh was still too little to play there._

_They went back to Nash Park.  
_

_Josh was finally big enough to play in the McDonalds Playroom._

_Michael started Kindergarten, which meant he didn't have to stay with the babysitter very much. He really liked that. Through Kindergarten and First Grade, he had perfect attendance._

_He came home with his first report card. He had all A's. Mommy gave him a big hug and a kiss, saying that she was proud of him. He felt great!_

_Mommy took him to his friend's house. He had never had a friend before! Mommy, Josh and Arthur's mommy sat in the kitchen while he and Arthur played. Arthur moved away after Kindergarten._

_Mommy rented the video that Michael wanted to see instead of the one Josh wanted to see! _

_Mommy took them to the zoo!  
_

_Mommy made Michael help Josh tie his shoes. She also made him help Josh pick up his toys. "Why should I help? I didn't do it!" "Just do it anyway." She said. She gave Michael a spanking._

_Mommy gave Josh, Michael's old blue tennis shoes._

_Mommy told Michael how handsome he looked in his Kindergarten class picture. She made him tell her the names of every classmate and she wrote their names on the back of the picture._

_When Michael was seven, he had his first real birthday party at McDonalds! He had three friends from school and their moms came He had a great time!_

_Between First and Second Grade, his friend from school, Drew invited hem and Josh to go to Day Camp with their church. The camp was by a river and the boys got to ride in a boat. Going to the camp was Michael's favorite thing he did that summer!_

_Josh had made a friend at Nash Park named Benji. Michael would sometimes play with Josh and Benji and sometimes he would play by himself._

_Michael and Josh started to going to the Awanas with Drew. They even went to church with him a couple of times. Mommy didn't come. She said it was time to get caught up on some stuff._

_Mommy showed Michael how to use the Microwave. She made him promise to never put metal inside._

_They had to ride the bus for a week because Mommy's car broke down. When Drew's daddy heard about it, he went and fixed it for free. Mommy cried that night. "Why are you crying, Mommy? Josh asked Michael wondered the same thing. "No one has ever been that nice to me before," she answered._

_When he was in the Second Grade, some older kids started to tell stories about mutants, how they were all scary and they did bad things to normal kids._

_Mommy asked Michael to make the dinner, once. She had a hard day at work and she was really tired. Michael made hot dogs in the microwave._

_A big kid hit Michael and took his skateboard. He never saw it or him again. Mommy gave him a big hug and said that she was glad that he was all right. He didn't feel all right. That jerk stole his skateboard!_

_Mommy made pancakes for breakfast. Josh was wearing his shirt inside out again. "Mom! Josh has his shirt on inside out!" Michael said. "Josh, put your shirt on right," Mommy said. Josh stuck his tongue out at Michael. Michael did likewise. "Quit sticking your tongues out at each other or no AWANAS tonight," Mom said with her back to the boys. How did she do that? That day at school, Josh hurt himself, so Mommy took off from work and came to take him to the hospital. She stopped in Michael's class to tell him to go to Drew's house after school and to go to AWANAS from there. Mommy didn't pick him up from AWANAS, so he went home with Drew, that evening. Mrs. Curtis said that they must have had to keep Josh in the hospital so Michael spent the night. _

_The next morning, Drew went to school, but Mrs. Curtis kept Michael home. Two policemen came and talked to her. Michael heard her say, "No!" real loud. A minute later, she came and sat down with Michael and told him, "Something very bad happened. There was a fire at the hospital that your mom took Josh to and they have both been hurt." The policemen wouldn't let him stay with Drew's family. They sent him to his first foster home. An older boy told Michael that his mom was a mutie freak, that she had started the fire that killed lots of people, that she was a murderer. Michael was in a fight in an instant. The foster father pulled them apart before many blows were thrown. One of the other kids said to the first boy,"Are you crazy? He probably's one of them, too! What if he zaps us?"_

_The social worker took him to the prison to see Mommy for the first time. They had told him that she had been disfigured, but seeing it scared him. That wasn't his mom. She didn't look like her or sound like her. "Hi Michael," "Hi Mommy," Michael answered. Did you have a nice time at AWANAS?" "I guess so," he answered. "Did Josh have a good time?" "He didn't get to come. He was in the fire." She started to cry. They had moved him to a second foster home and he got into a fight the first night with one of the other foster kids. _

_Drew's mom came and saw him once. She said that she wished she could take him in, but there were so many people mad at his mom, she was afraid that if she took him in, the bad people would know exactly where he was and might hurt him. She said it was safer if he went where nobody knew about his mom. She gave him a phone card and told him to call her every so often to let her know how he was doing. And then she gave him a big hug. That was the last time anyone gave him a hug._

_The next time he went to see Mommy, she thought he was Josh. "Josh, let's go to the park. You like that, don't you? Or, maybe you want to go to McDonalds?" "Mom, I'm Michael. Josh is dead!" Tears began to flow down his cheeks. Mommy didn't love him anymore! He saw Mommy three more times. She never called him Michael again._

_The rest of his childhood memories consisted of shuffling from foster home to foster home. Drew's mom was right about people being mad or afraid of him. He started to email her. She sent him both a Christmas present and a birthday present every year._

Jean pulled out of his memories with a tremendous sense of sadness. Except for Drew's mom, no one cared for this boy. It was amazing that he wasn't a mean spirited kid. She said to him, telepathically._ Thank you. Do you still want to see some of my memories?_

_Yeah, I do. _He answered.

_She was in a school dining room. Sitting across from her is a green skinned man, She is watching the kids in line as they are being served lunch. Most look normal but some of them look totally bizarre. Almost all of the kids look like they are in high school, but a few are around Michael's age or younger. The dining room looks nice and the bizarre kids weren't being treated any different than the normal looking kids._

_She was helping to teach a group of kids about his age in a field. One boy concentrated hard and suddenly a big rock rose from the ground "Very good, Chad. Now try and move the rock towards me," Mrs. Summers says. The rock moves about two feet in the air before falling to the ground. The other kids laugh. "You are getting better, Chad. Elise, your turn!"_

_She walks into the computer lab and finds five boys playing a computer game._

_She is in a control room and looking out a window in what must be the most incredible action movie, ever! People are blasting at robots with all kinds of powers. "Clarice! You almost hit Roger! Stay in your zone." Mrs. Summers said telepathically._

As the telepathic link was broken, Michael had asked animatedly, "What was that last thing we saw?"

"It was our virtual reality training center. It is one of the places we use to train students in the use of their powers," Jean didn't feel it was a good idea to tell him any more about the Danger Room.

Michael sobered. "Thanks for reminding me about a lot of stuff. You were right. I forgot a lot more than I though I had. Do you think that Mom will go to the park?" Michael asked.

"I figure the park or the McDonalds," Jean answered.

"You might want to watch our old apartment, too," Michael suggested.

"We have someone watching it, right now," Jean responded.

"You are going to take her alive, right?" Michael asked. Even though he knew what the plan was, he wanted more reassurance.

"If I can get to her, first, I am 99 percent sure that I can take her alive and I am pretty sure that I can help her," Jean answered. "Now let's get you something to eat. I can arrange what needs to be done from the restaurant."

Jean called the others and Sean found a nice sit down restaurant. Sean told Michael and Genghis to order whatever they wanted. While everyone was enjoying steak dinners, Jean was giving instructions to others, telepathically.

After dinner, as they were driving Michael home, Kitty asked him, "Michael, would you like to attend our school?"

"Can children of mutants go? I mean, I don't have any money," Michael answered. He had a look of desperation. He wasn't going to beg, but what little he had seen in Mrs. Summers' memories told him that he wanted to go to that school.

"Don't worry about the money. Everyone is on scholarship. There is a stipend as well. Yes, children of mutants are eligible. We will have to talk to the State Court s about it, but I don't anticipate a problem. We could probably have you living on campus by Fall, if you would like," Kitty answered. Michael had such a full day, emotionally. There was no need to overwhelm the boy with the knowledge that he was a mutant. It would keep.

"I would love it." After a second Michael asked, "Why are you willing to help me? There is nothing more that I can do for you." He held his breath expectantly. Maybe he'd blown it!

Genghis answered first. "If we don't help each other, the Normals will kill us all, because they afraid of us," he answered in his Kazakh accent and slightly imperfect English grammar. Michael started to nod.

"Well, I woulna said it that way, lad, but there is some truth to what Genghis said. If we want a better world for mutants, then we have ta work together. I'll tell ya lad, we do want a better world," said Sean as he pulled up to the curb.

"I'm not a mutant," Michael blurted out.

"Being the son of a mutant has forced ya to live in our world. Because ye live in our world, we feel confident that ye would benefit from our school and when ye are an adult, ye could help other children of mutants. We think that ye are worth our time, Michael," Sean said.

Michael didn't say anything for a moment. He was blinking back tears. "Thank you." He managed to say.

His foster parents came out on the porch. Michael looked at them for a second and then he quickly looked back to the X-Men. "Mrs. Summers?" he said.

"Yes Michael?" she asked.

"When you see my mom, tell her I still love her," he said.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Renee woke slowly. She opened her eyes and looked over to Cody's bed, where her daddy lay sleeping. She looked out her window and saw that the sky was blue. It was going to be a pretty day. As she started to sit up she heard a strange noise by the door. She looked over to her door as a black vortex opened up, destroying the door and a lot of the wall that it was attached to. Renee screamed and woke Gambit up, just as Rogue came out of the vortex crashing onto Renee's bed and landing on Renee's legs.

Renee's scream turned into a cry of surprise and elation upon seeing her mother. The vortex closed, unnoticed. Rogue's hands were on the floor on one side of Renee's bed, her feet on the other side. As Rogue righted her self, Renee jumped to her feet, still on her bed and cried, "Momma!"

Before Rogue could do or say anything, Renee threw her arms around her mother's neck and Rogue absorbed Renee's memories as Renee collapsed.

"Renee! No!" Rogue screamed as she pulled away from her daughter. Gambit rushed to Renee as she opened her eyes and looked at her parents, a little dazed.

"Renee! How do y' feel p'tite?" Gambit asked anxiously.

She looked at her parents. Her mommy and daddy looked so scared. She started to cry. Gambit scooped her into his arms. "We gonna see Uncle Hank, p'tite" he said as everyone on the floor began to rush to the children's room.

The next twenty minutes were the longest in Rogue's life. For the first few minutes, she still had Remy's powers. She destroyed a door on her way to the Medlab with Remy's biokinetic charge. She could hear the thoughts of the students and the staff. It was a cacophony. She started to open another portal. Fortunately, Cable and Emma were able to lead her in taking it down before Remy's powers had faded.

The worst thing that had happened was that she had hurt her little girl. Rogue didn't believe it was possible, but she learned that there were depths of guilt she didn't believe were possible. She was torn between self wallowing guilt and rage at what Sinister and Flare had done to the kids.

Wolverine walked up to Rogue in the Medlab while Beast was examining Renee. Without saying anything, he handed her one of her suppression collars. She looked at it thinking that it certainly wasn't such a cursed device, after all. She quietly put it on as Renee's sobs stopped.

A couple of minutes later, Beast looked up "As far as our initial tests have gone, she is totally unharmed," he said.

Rogue felt like a ton had just lifted from her soul. She looked over to Remy who had just as great a look of relief on his face. As they rushed over to their daughter, Renee said, "I thought you were supposed to take a long nap when you touch Momma with her powers on. That was kind of fun. Can we do it again?"

"I'm curious about something Rogue," Bishop said an hour later. He, Scott, Remy, and Rogue were sitting in the War Room, waiting to hear from Jean and the other X-Men who were staking out the most likely places Cheryl Warner would take Cody. Rachel was finally over her chicken pox, although Scott still had a day or two to go before he would be totally well.

For the first time, Rachel and Renee, along with Peter and Kitty's older daughter, Illyana were allowed in the War Room. Remy and Rogue weren't ready to let Renee out of their sight just yet, but they wanted to be on hand when something happened regarding Cody. The girls had been set up at a computer terminal and they were playing a game, while giggling amongst themselves.

Angelo was monitoring the board. There were several news reports concerning mutant activities in several countries. There was continuing coverage of the fight yesterday in Florida. The X-Men had scheduled a press conference for 10:30 that morning. It was designed more to keep spin control working in their favor than anything else. That was a secondary reason for getting together; to get their story straight about where Rogue had been.

"What's on y' mind, Bish?" Rogue asked.

"Well," Bishop started. "Back, just before we had that timeline that created Nate Grey," he began. Bishop was careful not to say paradox, for obvious reasons. "You absorbed Gambit's powers. I figured that you would use the time portal then, but I never saw it. Any ideas on why that didn't happen?"

After a moment, Rogue answered thoughtfully. "Back then, I was thinkin' that we were gonna die. When we kissed, I felt Remy's telepathy and special sense. I thought that the telepathy was part o' his spatial senses. All those minds an' all that motion was overwhelmin'. I jus' wasn' expectin' it. If the time wave hadn't crashed over us, maybe I woulda used the time portal. As ah recall, I didn' use Remy's biokinetic charge at the time, either. "

Remy squeezed her hand. She smiled at him and watched the girls for a few seconds before continuing. "This time, I knew what t'expect. I focused on seein' Remy's plan an' doin' it. Havin' that goal in mind made it easier t'keep from bein' totally overwhelmed.." She squeezed his hand, harder. "His mind was very focused, "Open the time portal inside Sinister." And I did."

"Um Rogue, when the police talk to you, you need to say the teleportation portal. It is what we told the press," Scott said. Rogue nodded.

"We need t'explain where she been since yesterday," Gambit said.

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Scoot said, "We keep it simple, the vortex opened somewhere far away. You flew straight here. Now, what questions would SHIELD or the FBI ask?"

"Where did the vortex open up at?" Bishop asked.

"In a field where I grew up," Rogue said.

"Traveling through the vortex knocked her out and when she woke up, she flew here. That is unlikely to be believed," Bishop said.

After a moment, Remy said, "Make it closer to de truth. Say dat Rogue drained me accidental an' cuzuh dat,knew I was gonna try to open de portal. Since I was unconscious and couldn' do it. She tried it. Desperate times an' all dat. She opens de portal, goes to dat field and pass out under a tree cuz it takes a lot outta her. She ain' slept in a couple days, anyways. When she woked up, she have jus' enough o' ma power left ta open up de portal an' come home. We say it dat way, an' we don' have ta worry 'bout Renee spillin' de beans."

Scott thought for a second and said, "That could work. We could say that the when the announcement was made at the Tampa PD, we had assumed that Gambit had opened the vortex, but after you woke up and Rogue had showed, we found out what really happened. A simple mistake on our part easily explained. SHIELD already knows that Rogue can absorb powers. It's perfect."

They were interrupted by Cable, who was monitoring Cerebro. "I found them! Cody and the Warner woman are in Pittsburgh! Jean! They are heading towards the McDonald's!"


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm hungry," Cody said.

"Don't worry, Josh. We are almost to McDonalds," Cheryl said.

"We've seen lots of McDonalds. Can we stop at the next one?" Cody asked reasonably.

"We are going to a special McDonalds. You'll see," she answered. They had been on the road most of 36 hours. They had pulled in to a truck stop outside Atlanta for three hours so Cheryl could get a little sleep. They had eaten out of the various deli cases of convenience stores that Cheryl could find

As they had neared Pittsburgh, Cheryl had stopped at a gas station that had the bathrooms outside. While Cody was using the bathroom, she saw a headline in one of the newspaper vending machines; "MUTANT BATTLE IN TAMPA." Cheryl tried to read though the plastic. She breathed a sigh of relief. From what little she could read, the X-Men had Renee.

Cody came out of the restroom. Since she didn't know how much the four year old could read, Cheryl quickly hurried him into the car. Since she had the time, Cheryl began to plan her next move. She could only keep Josh if she could find a place to support him. One reason that Pennsylvania had a Mutant Prison is that Philadelphia had an inordinately large mutant population. For some reason, a lot of mutants moved to the City of Brotherly Love. Last she heard, there were fifteen thousand mutants in the city. She learned how to get false id when she had been in prison. She had to go back to the McDonalds so Josh could play there, one more time. After breakfast, they would go to Philadelphia.

As she drove in to her old neighborhood, memories started to come back to Cheryl, She passed the church that Drew's family attended. She smiled for a moment remembering a Vacation Bible School play that Michael and Josh had been in. Michael? Where was Michael? She almost ran a light before she stopped. She was in a panic. Where was Michael? She looked over at Josh. As soon as she got settled in Philadelphia, she had to find Michael!

The rest of the drive was a churning of emotions. Cheryl knew that if she lost it now, the car would catch on fire and Josh would die, again. Again? How could he die again?

She pulled into the McDonalds parking lot. It was about 10 A.M. That meant that they could still order breakfast. She and Cody got out of the car and walked into the restaurant and got in a long line. She didn't dare hold Cody's hand, no matter how much she wanted to. It took all of her self control to keep from flaring up. It was the first time that she had thought of Michael in how long? Waves of guilt washed over. She had neglected her son! How could she do that?

"Hey that's the mutie that they're looking for!" someone in the restaurant shouted.

That was the last straw. She flared. The flame shot forward and washed back over her as a wall of ice appeared between her and the people in front of her. People screamed and started to jump away from her; like at the hospital when Josh...Josh! Cheryl spun towards Josh and to her horror she flared again right into him! She screamed as the flame went right over him again! Josh was semitransparent. He was holding a strange woman's hand.

"Josh," she screamed.

"I'm here Mommy," a voice said behind her. She spun around and fell. She rose to her knees and stared. There was Josh! Her baby! He was dressed just as he had been at the hospital. He smiled. "I can't stay but a minute, but I missed you."

He walked slowly toward her as the restaurant emptied out.

"Josh, stay away! I...I c can't control it. I'll burn you again if you get too close!" her tears were rolling.

"No you won't Mommy! You can't burn me! It's okay." He gave her a hug. She held him so tightly. She wished that she didn't have the suit on, so she could feel him. She held him and held him. She didn't want to let go.

"I can't stay, Mommy," he said.

"Why not Josh?" she whimpered. "Please stay. I'll learn to control it. I'll be good. Please stay."

"You were always good to me, Mommy. I have no complaints. I came to say goodbye," Josh said still in her arms.

"Are you..are you in Heaven?" Cheryl asked.

"Yes Mommy," Josh answered. "Drew's mom talked to us about how if we wanted to go to Heaven, we had to ask for salvation because of what Jesus did. I'm in Heaven."

"I don't think that I'm going to Heaven. I did so many bad things," she answered.

"When you go back to prison, ask to see Drew's mom. She will talk with you about that. I know she will," After a few seconds, he said, "I have to go,"

"No!" she said desperately.

"I love you Mommy. Michael still loves you and I forgive you," Josh was gone as a suppression collar was telekinetically attached to her neck. When the police arrived, Cheryl Warner was in a fetal position, crying her eyes out.

Genghis teleported Remy, Rogue and Renee to Pittsburgh. The reunion and the Pittsburgh hospital that the police took Cody to was joyful. Rogue was split between kissing the children and looking at her fellow X-Men with more gratitude than she thought was possible. She never believed that this moment would happen.

All Jean, Kitty and Bobby told the police was that when Cheryl Warner and Cody entered the restaurant, Kitty approached Cody from behind, took his hand and phased right then and there. When that man in the crowd had opened his big ,mouth, Bobby and Jean had spent the next few seconds protecting all of the other customers by a combination of Bobby's ice shield and Jean's telekinetic bubble. With Cody away from her, Miss Warner just collapsed from the pressure.

It wasn't until that evening, back at the Mansion, in the War Room that Jean told the Le Beaus what really happened. Jean had taken from Michael's memories; everything he knew about Josh; sight sound, smell, height, speech pattern everything. She then used her telepathy to make Cheryl Warner to see Josh. She knew that Josh had talks about Christianity with Drew's mother. From Drew's memories, Jean knew that Drew's mother would probably visit Cheryl. Jean also knew that what Cheryl Warner needed most was to be forgiven.

"I made her see Josh as long as I could. I wanted to do it longer, but it is very hard to do," Jean said.

"Ah don' know if Ah'll ever forgive her for what she's done," Rogue said. "Ah saw it through Renee's memories."

Remy took her hand. "Ah can forgive her. It took a lotta courage for her t' take Cody an' run from Sinister. Ah did worse than she did."

Rogue started to get angry but quickly changed her mind and looked away.

Changing the subject, Scott asked, "I'm assuming that she is back in prison?"

"Yes," Jean said. The police are rushing her back there, as quickly as possible. That reminds me, I need to call Michael and tell him how it went."

As she went to the phone, the LeBeaus went to their children to enjoy the last tow years of their lives.


	18. Chapter 18

A week later, Remy, Rogue and the kids went to Dennis's house. Remy was wearing a pair of sunglasses to keep from startling Dennis's family. Remy rang the doorbell. An attractive redheaded woman opened the door. "Yes?" she said.

"Ma'am, mah name is Remy Le Beau. This is mah wife, Tamara an' our chillen, Cody and Renee. We'd like to see you an' your husband an' your son, Dennis, if we could," Remy said.

The woman got flustered. "I want to apologize for Dennis calling your home. When we found out what he did…well we are sure he won't do that again," she said. "Please come in."

She led them into the living room. "Just one moment, I will get my husband and our son," she said.

As she left the room, Rogue said, "Poor kid. His parents though he was makin' it up and prob'ly gave him a good spankin' for it,"

A minute later, the couple came in with Dennis. Dennis walked in with his head down. Dennis's father walked up to the Le Beaus and offered his hand.

Shaking Remy's hand he said, "I'm Paul Stone. You have already met my wife, Laura. We would really like to apologize for Dennis calling your home with that story. He is going through a stage of trying to get more attention and he just doesn't understand yet, what are appropriate ways to get attention," he said

"We didn' come for an apology. We came to t'ank your son for helpin' t' save Cody's life," Remy answered.

The adult Stones were dumbfounded. Dennis looked up, hopefully. He and Cody made eye contact. Dennis was going to say something, but thought better of it.

Cody spoke up. "Thanks Dennis," he said.

The Stones looked at her son with looks ranging from awe to exasperation to a little guilt.

"So, Dennis really did see your son." Mr. Stone said as a statement.

"If he hadn' called when he did, Cody woulda been badly hurt, if not killed, th' next mornin'," Remy said.

"Did you get in trouble for helping me?" asked Cody.

"I got in lots of trouble. I got a spanking and had to stay at the motel with Mom for the last day of our trip to Disney World," he answered. There was a touch of vindictiveness in his voice, now that he had been exonerated in front of his parents.

"Lose that tone of voice, young man," his father said.

"But, you just heard that I was telling the truth when you thought I was lying,.." his son started to say.

Mr. Stone interrupted. "Dennis, your mother and I are proud of the fact that you had the wisdom to know to call the X-Men and we are proud that you had the backbone to make the call. You know that the reason that you were punished so severely was because we believed that this was the most serious example of you having made up a lot of stories. You know that we were acting in good faith. We weren't being mean or capricious when we disciplined you. We are glad that we were wrong about the discipline. We are sorry that you had to suffer for doing the right thing, but a lot of times in life, God calls for some suffering in doing the right thing. Just because you are innocent, that doesn't give you a right to be mean spirited. I'm sorry, but this is not something that can be made up to you," he said.

Dennis looked forlorn. His mother put her arms around his shoulders and gave him a hug. "You did the right thing, Dennis," she said.

"Yes you did," his father agreed.

"We kinda wanted t' show him our appreciation," Rogue began.

The Stones looked over at the Le Beaus.

"Mah father is a man of some means. He'd like t' give your family an all expense paid trip for a week t' wherever Dennis would like t' go for your next vacation." Remy said.

"Wow! Can we go to Hawaii?" Dennis asked excitedly.

"Dennis!" his mother said.

"If dat's where you want to go, dat can be arrainged," Gambit said.

"You're serious?" Mr. Stone asked.

"Absolutely. Five Star Hotel, de works," Remy answered.

"Can we go Dad? Please!" Dennis wheedled.

"I..I don't know what to say, but thank you." said Mr. Stone.

Rogue looked from Mr. Stone to Dennis. "No. Thank you, Dennis, for saving mah baby," she said.


	19. Chapter 19

_Twelve years later, thirty minutes before the paradox totally collapses as described in Paradox Law._

"Mrs. Summers!" a voice called out behind her from the main parking lot, nearest the Mansion. She turned and saw Michael Baldwin hurrying to catch up to her. She smiled as he caught up to her.

"Michael! Did you come for the graduation?" she asked.

"I'm actually killing two birds with one stone. It will be nice to see the Le Beaus graduate, but I also came to see Bobby. He said that a pyrokinetic girl was just recruited and he thought that I could be of some help, so here I am," Michael said. He was always more formal with Jean and Kitty. He never called them by their first names, even though he was now twenty-four and a graduate student at Rutgers University. Bobby had turned into a mentor and father figure for Michael. They had been on a first name basis for years.

"You are still on track to getting both of your Master's Degrees next year?" she asked.

"That's the plan, MS in Materials Science and MS in Chemistry, next Spring, if all goes well," Michael answered.

"How's your mother?" Jean asked.

"She is doing okay. Drew's mom and her minster visit. They let each of us see her once a month. We go at different times so she gets three visits a month. .We send her books and she is happy about my success in school. It's not much, but it is the best we can do," he said.

"I'm sorry that we were not able to get her a new trial," Jean said.

"If you hadn't helped her, when you did, she'd be catatonic by now. At least she is alive and functional. She doesn't despise herself anymore. It is a start," he answered

Glancing at her watch, Jean exclaimed, "I have to get to the Danger Room. I'll see you at the reception?"

"Of course," Michael answered as they entered the building for the last time.


End file.
